Puppeteer
by FrostySquid
Summary: Fleeing from his previous life as an assassin, Ichigo ends up building his new life in Japan. There he meets new people and tries to learn how to live a normal life with the threat of Aizen over his shoulder. Then he meets Grimmjow. Rated M for violence, and sexual activity. This is Yaoi, meaning MaleXMale. Gay love. If you dislike, then don't read, please review! Thanks!:)
1. Chapter 1

Mindless. Souless. Everyday, every moment, everything. Emotions weren't permitted, that had been engraved into every single fiber of his being.

People were like dolls. Their puppeteer pulling at the strings to make them move, they didn't feel, they didn't care. He was raised to fill those strings, be a soulless doll in this world.

He hated it. Following every command, every whim. He had done horrible things, and the tiny bit of guilt he had protected suffered for them.

They called him Number 015. It wasn't his birth name,, he had no idea what his biological parents had called him. Dyed brown hair, sharp angular features. What color was his real hair? He didn't know. The shampoo and body wash they bathed with held dye. His eye brows, hair, under arms and even his pubic hair was dyed. He had brown eyes. He at least knew that much at least. He had seen his eyes in the mirror with out the contacts that were standard.

With the contacts, they were almost golden.

He worked along side two others. A huge hulking man who'd lost an eye in the past, and a smaller man. He'd only seen either of their masks, just like they'd never seen his.

The huge beast of a man's mask was completely white, save a black circular mark where his missing eye was.

The others, was also white, but with green tear tracks falling from the eye holes.

015's was more animalistic than the others. It rose from his face slightly, appearing to be some kind of animals jaw. Teeth popped from the open mouth, serving to make the mask look more like bone than the material it was. It was completely white save the red streaks across one side. They looked as if blood was welling along jagged cuts across the bone.

A single beep rang through the room, it's occupants instantly standing to attention from their beds. Tear Tracks, One Eye, and 015 all shared a room. The only time it was occupied was at night, when training and missions had been out away to favor sleep.

They stood there waiting at attention, knowing not to move until orders were given. At last, a man entered. Glasses, wavy brown hair. Simple looks, nothing special or defining about his features or expression. The constant at his side was more interesting to look at.

He had silver hair, and a permanent grin. His eyes squinted shut by the action, he was their Master's lap dog. Always at his side, domineering attention away from the real threat.

They three masked dolls were silent as their Masters entered.

"Number 457, you're to train today. Breakfast at eight, lunch at one. Give Gin a progress report." Tear Tracks nodded and exited.

"Number 326, you're to study today, then work out. Breakfast at seven, lunch at twelve. Give me your progress report." One Eye gave a single nod and exited out the door like the previous masked man had.

"Number 015, you have a mission today. Memorize what I'm about to say." The brown haired man waited for a single nod from 015. Once received, he continued.

"You're to assassinate a man called Muramasa. He's stolen from our armory and needs to be extinguished. Find his living place and kill him, also kill any one who witnesses. Leave no trail, only corpses. Repeat it." The brown haired man ordered. 015 repeated the instructions word for word, all the while a sick feeling developed in his stomach.

He had killed so many, far too many. His outside facade was indifferent to his inner turmoil, he went through the actions almost with out thinking. He didn't want to kill. He didn't want to kill. He didn't want to kill.

Yet, he walked down the white halls, drew out the standard uniform, collect a pair of hand guns and sheath knifes, extra bullets, white gloves. He pulled the hood over his head, sliding his mask off his face and into the front of his hoodie. He slide out the front doors into the public crowds that veiled the seemingly normal building from view. He wasn't Number 015 anymore, now he was ghost sliding down the streets. He walked among the people, blending into shadows and gliding along them like a blanket of darkness of the wall.

Nobody noticed him, and he only followed the trail that would bring him to a certain man called Muramasa.

Muramasa wasn't special. He wasn't hard to find, or hard to set up. All the mission would take was breaking a screen door lock and killing the man while he slept. No complications, no special planning. It wasn't needed.

015 waited. Crouched in the darkness as he observed Muramasa's house, watching people come and go. Something new filled him inside, something almost deathly frightening to him. Guilt was mixed into the new emotion. It flared through him, mixing a tornado of destruction inside the man. He could read emotions off of others in a heart beat, but he had never actually experienced the feeling. He knew what this was called, though. 015 had seen it time and time before.

Sadness. Desperation. Anger.

All of them were jumbled inside of him, it was frightening. Also a new feeling to the Doll Number 015.

I don't understand. I don't understand. That was the only thing that ran through his head. Three words pounding in his skull. Over and over again. It would leave him, just as those new emotions flew around inside him.

Hours passed, 015 waited for the sun to set as he tried his hardest to sort through the feelings. Feelings. He had never felt them before. He had felt pain, torture even, but desperation? Sadness? Fear? Never.

He didn't know how to cope with these things, didn't know what to do with this indecision of his soul. What was the source? Why now, why not tomorrow or the next day. He didn't understand.

Night pushed away the last of the suns gentle light as it's own blinking stars filled the sky.

015 rose from his hidden space, stalking towards the dark, silent house. His foot steps didn't make a sound, yet his heart pounded. It sounded loud in his ears, pounding against his ribs. This wasn't right. The feeling of sadness was growing stronger, the feeling of despair almost swallowing him. Why? Why? Why?

He practically stumbled through the door, his rampant soul screaming in horror at his bodies movements. Grace was gone from him in that moment, fleeting away from his limbs.

Muramasa. Sleeping in bed. His breathing was even, his eyes closed and lashes falling to his pale cheeks. 015 raised the gun, the end pointing to Muramasa's head.

It was then that Muramasa stirred, 015 watching from behind the mask he had risen. His sheets fell to his waist as he sat up in bed. Muramasa's eyes widened at the sight of the assassin, but otherwise said nothing. The cold, steel gun pressed to 015's palm, pointed at Muramasa's head. Suddenly, 015 quaked, his body trembling. He was overwhelmed. This desperation was screaming at him. Telling him to leave the gun, leave the man alive and run. Just run, never look back at the mission or the Masters. He was going to break, 015 was sure of it. Maybe not with this kill, maybe it would be the next or the one after that one. But 015 would break, crumble, turn to rubble. Was this why he was trained to feel no emotion? To have no guilt, no conscience? Some how he had saved that sliver of feeling and now, at random, it was coming back to bite him at tenfold.

The gun shook in his hands, yet his eyes didn't waver from the target. He was trained to well for that. Muramasa rose a hand, as if to touch the barrel of the pistol and point it away from himself. His fingers touched the metal, feeling it's coolness before 015 reacted.

His fingers tightened. He pulled the trigger. It was a silenced shot, barely making a sound in the night. Not a soul heard the noise. Blood splattered, smearing over the white sheets. 015 had never noticed before, how crimson blood looked in the middle of the night. Yet here it was, painted across bed sheets and skin alike as it spilled from the body laying there.

015 stood there, simply staring at the life dripping away. His gun was still outstretched, by now cooled again from the nights pure air. He tried to master himself again, to stifle down that guilt. That regret, that despair, that sadness. Why? Why? Why? He was angry too, angry at himself. At his actions, at how weak he realized he really was.

He was a doll. A number on a page. Trained to follow what's been told, to not ask questions, and be utterly emotionless to the world.

Desire.

Burning desire fills him now. He wants something new. 015 can't make sense of it, it's too vague, too jumbled in his tangled mind.

That distraction is what led to the door creating open, a small white face staring at the scene before him. Seeing the masked demon, gun pointed at his fathers corpse, blood soaking the mattress.

A small boy had opened the door, a blanket clutched in one hand the other rubbing into his eyes.

015 didn't think, he quelled down the emotions racing through him. He turned and pointed the gun at the child. Words running through his head. Kill anyone who witnesses. A child isn't spared from that order, it pertains to anyone. 015 faced towards the frozen child. His gun wavering from holding his arm out so long, he shook from the effort. His legs felt weak, unsteady as he hardened his stance.

The boys mouth was just opening into an O when the bullet slices through him. More blood. Too much. Too much. Crimson streaks the floor, stains the bed. It's too much. 015 is frozen for half a moment, guilt taking over. Shame, sadness, despair. He can't describe the feelings raging through him. 015 does the one thing he doesn't want to. He runs. The gun tucked into his pants, his hood drawn over his covered face. No looks at him, no one questions the sprinting youth.

Under the onyx sky, sprinkled with gems of glowing white, 015 breaks.


	2. Chapter 2

It'd been half a month since that fateful, burning night. Death flashed in his dreams, blood paints his nights. All he sees is himself in that mask, mindlessly killing everybody.

He did the only thing he could think of. He abandoned the killers name. The title of 015 left in the pile of corpses and oceans of blood. He isn't Number 015 anymore, he isn't a simple Doll either. He doesn't know what he is, what he wants. He hasn't felt that burning of desire since that black night days ago.

Right now, he can only think of mending himself. Stitching himself back together, and surviving in this new environment. He was trained to be able to fit in, to have charm when he needed it, seduce those who are needed, play games with others minds. Those skills seem like nothing now. He doesn't have a part to play, he only had the broken remains of himself. He doesn't know how to act around these people anymore, doesn't know what to say without an order.

It's frightening, he scares himself with these revelations. He's almost like a child again, just learning his mathematics again. Naive, but horribly guilt stricken. All he can do is put distance between himself and the Master waiting for him to return. The brown haired man called Aizen.

He slipped onto trains, boats, anything that moves. He knows how to do that, how to be invisible. That's all he is. A ghost breezing by, taken by the wind and tossed across land and sea. Days pass. Weeks blow by. He travels slowly, steadily. Leaving his name, his shelter, his everything. Taking only the fear, sadness and guilt with him.

One day he stops. He just freezes as he walks down a new street. Here. This is the end. He can't keep on walking, keep on running. The previously known man as 015 would have to stop eventually.

This was it. His destination. He didn't know where he was, his mind didn't process the changes in language as he snuck around borders, slide away from passports. Now he looked at the signs though. Japanese. He was in Japan.

It was a small town that he ended up in, small houses with flower beds beneath them. Cheery people talking with each other. He knew nothing of the gentle lives they lived. Yet, there was that emotion again. It startled him, as he was used to its long absence. Desire had struck him again.

Still, he was afraid. He didn't want to give up everything about himself, he needed something to hold onto. Something to guide him through. He knew that his training was engraved into his very bones, he'd have to hold it in. Keep his fist from pounding into threats and his guns locked up tight. His mask locked even tighter.

He needed something to ground him, to let him taste his resolve in everything he did. A constant reminded of what he'd done, and what he'd never do again.

He had lived his whole life in constant pain. Suffering through torture resistance, cruel and brutal training, people screwing with his mind until he didn't know what was up and what was down. He almost needed that sense of distinction in his life, that familiar feeling now that it had disappeared.

He sat at a small park, his head cradled in his hands. He pressed his palms against his temples, the pressure somehow calming. He watched people pass, carrying groceries, bustling along with children, going about their days. That's what he wanted.

A care free normal life, not a schedule of when to kill. What was he? A killer, a killer reborn into this peaceful town.

A black limo passed him on the street, carrying a coffin of some bodies loved one. That was him, the black that painted coffins. The shining dark of death.

"Kuro." He whispered to himself. Then what? He wasn't only death, he was the sharpened blade that brought it. The point of the sword sharpened with blood.

"Kurosaki. That'll be me." Kurosaki whispered to himself, finally standing. Now he just had to survive here, teach himself how to live in this new world.

He would need money, and that would mean a job. All of the masked assassins had been taught to almost genius levels, so he wouldn't have to go to school.

Kurosaki looked down at himself, he was still wearing the black hoodie from that night. Then normal black pants filled with pockets that hide all sorts of weapons.

His shoes were worn down, the soles of the boots almost unbearably thin.

He thought himself to be maybe 19 or twenty. Kurosaki had never counted the years he lived, or been told of a birthday. He had never even thought of asking, not that you could ask questions.

He would need birth certificates, social security numbers, everything a normal person had. Kurosaki knew how to obtain those easily, it was just another remnant of the life he ran away from.

It would only take a few days, until then he could look for a job. Then after earning some money, some real place to live. Something inside him sang with that thought. It confused him, but it wasn't bad. Not like the overwhelming sadness or despair. Something warmer, almost fluffy?

Kurosaki shrugged the feeling off, setting out into the city to look for work. There were lots of signs posted on glossy windows, high billboards. Yet, they weren't what he was looking for. He didn't know what an accountant did, or what nurses and doctors did. He needed something simple, something he could do with his special array of knowledge.

He found it sitting by an alley. The small building was a dingy old bar, filled to the brim with roaring people. It's sign hung crooked, the words barely readable after all the time that had passed. It had a picture of a black cat on it, the words Miss Yoruichi under it. It was fairly small, seeming to shake under the footsteps pounding in it. Somehow, Kurosaki liked it. He had never felt that before either. A defined opinion based on his own thought and feelings. How strange.

The bar felt like a warm environment, if not a little wild. He could take wild, it was a new welcomed environment. Kurosaki had been to bars again and again in his line of work. He knew their in and outs, how to stay low, how to become the center of attention. He had served drinks at their bar back at the white building, even serving Aizen and Gin his hand mixed drinks. This would be perfect.

Even though there was no help wanted sign in the bar window, Kurosaki entered. It was loud, the music blaring as people danced on the floor. Huge crowds were jammed into the tiny building, the bar over run with orders. The mixers back there were scrambling with the drinks, trying to meet every demand.

Kurosaki weaved through the crowd to the bar, spotting a man with a owner name tag there. He was blond, with a striped hat on that covered most of his face. Kurosaki knocked on the table infront of him, drawing his attention away from the scramble of preparing drinks.

He leaned in close to hear what his newest customer wanted.

"May I please work here?" Kurosaki asked. The blonde haired man almost burst out laughing. As if some kid could start working new at drinks at this time. It took forever to teach new recruits how to mix drinks properly, and even longer how to do it quickly. So he did laugh.

"Kid, if you can keep up, you can have the job." He chuckled, but the boy nodded. Completely serious beneath that hood.

Kurosaki leaped over the bar table, orders instantly coming to him. He glanced back at the bottles behind him, instantly memorizing their places. Then he began to work.

It was easy. He simply memorized the faces that went with the drinks. Then, bottles flying to the ceiling, spinning from hand to hand in a dance of gravity and force, he mixed them effortlessly. Bottles spun behind his back, above his head, juggling around him in a tornado of glass. He didn't let one fall, let one slip to the ground beneath the workers feet.

To say the least, the blonde was surprised. One kid was keeping the orders running, he didn't once ask for a request twice. Drinks were sliding across the table to bump their orders hands. It was fast, quicker than the blonde had ever seen someone work. Yet, it was beautiful. He rolled the bottles across his hands with grace, threw them with precision, and it was effortless.

While his old workers were struggling, the newest recruit was flying. Soon, it became less frantic as the newest mixer picked up the slack and then some. He was taking at least twenty orders at a time, the other workers only five at the most before they struggled to remember what the customers wanted.

The day ended quickly in the bar. Spurred on by new hands and quickened paces. The open sign was flipped and the workers slumped in their chairs. Except Kurosaki, he stood straight up like he always did. He wasn't tired, or at least his brain didn't register the fatigue in his limbs.

"Who're you, kid?" One of the workers finally asked. Kurosaki turned towards them, his hoodie still drawn above his face. He had black hair, scars and a tattoo of 69 on his cheek. He was dressed in nice clothing, punk and gothic styled.

"I'm Kurosaki." He replied, going no further in explanation.

"Well then, welcome to the team Kurosaki." 69 said. "We'll see you tomorrow bright and early."

The blonde walked up to the newest worker.

"This is Shuuhei," he pointed to 69. "And this is Renji." The other man had flaming red hair and tribal tattoos. "I'm your boss, Urahara. Nice to meet you Kurosaki."

Kurosaki nodded once in return, quickly wiping down the bar before leaving the bar. Urahara had paid him for the hours he spent there, along with some tips his mixing brought.

It was good pay, after a few more days he'd be able to afford an apartment. Kurosaki almost smiled at that thought. He would be living alone, with no dolls waking beside him at beep of an alarm. He couldn't wait to see what that would feel like.

Until then, he was resigned to sleep under a tree or hidden away from sight. Kurosaki found his destined shelter for the night right as the skies broke. Crystal clear diamonds fell from the sky, sloshing over the pavement and down the gutters. Kurosaki was hidden inside a park tube. The big circular cement cylinder kept him mostly dry, some of the puddling water seeping over his feet as he curled there.

Kurosaki didn't sleep, he never had, never really would. Instead he fell into some kind of daze, his body resting while his mind remained alert enough to sense others presences.

Sounds of yelling is what broke him from that daze. Kurosaki rose his head, looking for the source of the sounds. Standing in the pouring rain was a group of guys. Four were circled around one, all armed with baseball bats. Kurosaki rose from his tunnel, walking out in the rain to the five men. They were cursing at each other, blood getting hotter as the rain poured down colder.

"Hey, I've called the police. You better run." Kurosaki's voice wasn't yelling, but it was in full swing. Intimidation laced through every word, the tone, atmosphere, and mood around him all charged to spark his point. All thrown against the four men facing off against the single figure. The sense of danger in his words, mixed with the threat of police had the offenders slinking off in a heart beat. No words were said.

Kurosaki turned, having no desire to talk to the man he had just rescued from a beating and possibly death.

"Huh? Hey, wait!" The guy yelled to Kurosaki's retreating back. Kurosaki paused, looking back at the lone man standing in the rain. He had dark blue hair, blackened from the rain. Bright blue cyan eyes shined through the dark.

"Yes?" Kurosaki asked finally, the mans silence bothered him.

"Don't you want a thank you?" He replied.

Kurosaki shrugged.

"No. Does it really matter that much?" That was strange, he didn't usually ask questions. There was something about the males face that was completely open, his face held no secrets.

"I think so, why wouldn't it?" He said, obviously confused by Kurosaki's question.

Kurosaki shrugged, intrigued by the conversation, yet tired. He crawled back into the cement tube, curling into himself. Soft footsteps approached.

"Yes?" He looked up at the angular face framed by navy locks as it peered in at him.

"Do you have a home?" Navy Locks asked. Kurosaki shook his head no.

"Is that a problem?" Kurosaki asked. Maybe normal people didn't sleep outside, Kurosaki didn't know. He had only studied the upper classes of society. Aizen had only associated with them, his mask dolls didn't dance for anybody but the best.

"Hell yeah!" Navy Locks exclaimed, shocked. "Come stay with me, at least until the rain stops." He demanded.

"Reason." Kurosaki said.

"Huh?" Navy Locks didn't understand the blunt word spit out at him.

"What's the reason I should stay with you?" He expanded.

"I... I don't know... You'll get a cold if you sleep in the rain!" He suddenly realized.

"I've never had a cold in my life." Kurosaki dead panned.

"It's my way of saying thank you." Navy Locks tried.

"I thought we established thank you's are not necessary in the world today." Kurosaki rebutted.

"Just do it." Navy Locks finally snarled, almost pouting. That made Kurosaki's lips curl upwards. That's strange, he didn't do that often. Not at all, actually. He wanted to feel that again, that warmth that made his lips turn.

"Ok." He stood, letting the rain soak him again. Navy Locks smiled, waving for Kurosaki to follow him.

"What's your name?" He asked, still grinning.

"Kurosaki." Kurosaki said, his answers as blunt as always.

"No first name?"

"..." Kurosaki pulled a blank.

"My name's Jaggerjacques Grimmjow." Grimmjow offered.

Number 015, Shiro, Kurosaki. Those were his titles, he hadn't completely left them, just had grown on them.

"Ichigo," He said. It made sense to him, to take the 15 from Number 015.

"Like strawberry?" Grimmjow said in surprise, the fruit didn't fit the cold mans nature or dark eyes from beneath the hood.

Thoughts swirled in his head, shaping his desires into Kanji, remaking his resolves.

"No, as in One Protector." Maybe he had once been a killer, but now, maybe he could protect someone. The name steeled itself within him, somehow forging a burning desire to live up to the title he'd given himself.

Head faced towards the soaked cement, Kurosaki Ichigo smiled for the second time that night as he walked by Grimmjow. He turned his head towards the sky, eyes searching out constellations. He liked this new world around him.


	3. Chapter 3

Grimmjow lived in a small apartment, nothing much and highly cluttered. Ichigo looked around the home, somehow the messes bringing a sense of comfort to him. The apartment brought a nice atmosphere, soothing to his frayed nerves.

Grimmjow scratched his head nervously, looking at the state of his apartment. Not something he necessarily needed to make a good expression on his visitor. He shoved a pile of magazines and books off the couch, picking up stray articles off the floor and shoving plates into a pile.

"Uh... Why don't you shower to warm up after the rain while I clean up?" Grimmjow suggested. Ichigo nodded, he hadn't showered for a few days. He had managed to sneak a few baths and showers in on his long journey to Japan, but none had been warm like he was craving. Another new feeling to him, craving.

He walked where the blue haired man pointed, shedding his clothes once masked by the closed door. Last of all he pulled down his hoodie and blinked in surprise. His hair was orange. Neon orange. Not just a gingery shade, but bright unnatural orange. It was vibrantly colored, the shade you'd find in a crayon box not on someone's head. To say he was surprised would be the least, he was astonished. Absolutely stunned by the flaming locks spread over his head. The brown dye must have faded from the recent showers and long days it'd taken to get in front of this mirror. He fingered a strand of hair, bringing it in front of his eyes for observation.

Suddenly he looked down, pulling the front of his boxers away from his milky white skin. There it was again. The orange hair, this regions color slightly darker than then his vibrant crown of color. He smiled. For some reason he liked the brilliant color, was proud of the neon orange locks that fell past his shoulders.

Still amazed with the stunning treasure he'd found, Ichigo turned the shower water on. He didn't wait for it to warm before he stepped into the spray. Needles ran through his skin at the icy touch. Slowly the icy reach of water turned warm, then almost unbearably hot. It was so extreme. Addicting even, to let his body feel these new things with such fervent extremities.

Springing from icy cold to burning hot in a matter of seconds. That transition mirrored Ichigo's life perfectly, and he liked the feeling of the scalding water on his skin.

He scrubbed through his hair, borrowing Grimmjow's shampoo and conditioner. Dirt fell trough the drain, erasing the evidence of his more recent nights in the wilderness. Water ran down his muscles, the droplets running on tracks to avoid jumping over the bulges of hard packed flesh. It sluiced over his porcelain skin, leaving red marks from the overwhelming heat.

Finally, Ichigo pushed the water shut, the shower head dripping it's last tears. He brushed a towel over the remaining drops that covered his body, letting the fabric soak them in.

A knock sounded in the door.

"Hey, Kurosaki. I got some dry clothes for you to wear, so when you're ready-" he was cut off by Ichigo opening the door wide, not concerned in the least he was stark naked. Grimmjow sputtered a moment, his eyes sinfully lowering to meet the curves and muscles lining that milky skin. He shoved the clothes into Ochigos arms.

"Here!" He yelped, turning away from the nude man. Ichigo looked at the man in confusion, figuring he'd never understand the mans reactions he turned away to dress.

Grimmjow's clothing was considerably larger than his own frame. Even though the man had tried to find smaller articles. His shirt was baggy, hanging off his shoulders loosely. The waist of his pants was a couple inches to big, he tied the excess fabric in a knot to keep them on his hips. The given boxers were also large, so they revived the same treatment the pants did. Ichigo ran a towel trough his hair as he stared into the mirror. They clothing looked huge on him, making his delicate frame appear more fragile than it really was. Weaknesses. He hated those, being constantly underestimated for his delicate looking body. Yet, that was an advantage in his old life, now it was a hinderance.

Ichigo left the bathroom, Grimmjow instantly setting a bowl of miso soup in front of him. It was delicious, the ingredients mixed to the perfect cocktail of bliss. Startlingly fresh and fantastically mouthwatering. Craving. There it was again. Ichigo wanted to taste more of the bluenette's homemade food.

While the orangette was gorging himself, Grimmjow was being plagued by images of the said vibrantly colored male.

Water running down his lithe body, arcing over his defined abs and dripping around his pink nipples. Grimmjow had never seen such milky pale skin. The smooth, perfect angles of his body, matched with the porcelain skin reminded Grimmjow of a finely made glass doll. Utterly fragile, frighteningly delicate. Almost as if Ichigo would break with a single touch. He was surreal, from his astonishing looks to the atmosphere surrounding him. Everything about the male was uncertain.

At one moment he had seemed deadly standing in the rain, terrifying even. Grimmjow had felt himself freezing in his boots and quaking at the sound of his voice. Quiet, yet ringing against all of the others that sounded out. It didn't war against the rain pounding against the pavement, it had moved with it, using the element to better himself.

To say Grimmjow had been intimidated would have been a huge understatement. He was terrified of the figure standing in the rain, braced against swirling darkness and confronting them with pounding rain.

Then the spell had broken in a single second, he had turned away. The rain was just water again, and the figure was just a slimmed figured man. It was if Grimmjow had stepped out of a trance back into reality. Even recalling the experience seemed dream like, he wasn't even sure what had happened anymore in those few moments.

From only a couple of words passed between the two, Grimmjow could tell the orangette was something else. What he didn't know was that if this creature was something vastly terrifying or something incredible awing. He was intrigued. Something inside him wanted to watch the man, see what would come to light from observing his every action and word.

"Do you like it?" Grimmjow asked, staring at the man wolf down the soup. Despite his vigor, not a single expression passed his face. He again reminded Grimmjow of a doll. Or a robot.

"It's good." He breathed, eating another spoonful. Grimmjow nodded, gladden by the compliment. He already could see that compliments would be sparse from the orangette. Grimmjow frowned. He wanted to know more about the male, anything at all.

"What's your favorite color?" He asked at random.

"... I don't know." Ichigo finally said, his face not breaking from the stone it had set. Somehow, Grimmjow was sure he was one hundred percent serious.

"What kind of color of clothing do you wear?" Grimmjow asked. Ichigo pointed to the wet pile of clothing piled on his bathroom tiles.

"So do you like black?" Grimmjow questioned.

"No." Ichigo replied without hesitation.

"Then white?" He tried.

"No."

"Red, green, blue, yellow, orange, pink, purple," Grimmjow named off.

Ichigo shook his head.

"Too bright."

Grimmjow stared at the orangette, trying to decipher the personality behind his unresponsive face and answers.

"Would... Would about gray?" He said. It fit the orangette. Not quite white, not quite black. Something fuzzy in the middle, nobody grasping what category the color would fall in. So it made its own, all wrapped in four letters. Gray.

Slowly, Ichigo nodded.

"I like gray." He seemed pleased with himself at the revelation. Grimmjow grinned at the tiny bit of feeling peaking through the orangette's features. It was adorable. He blushed at that thought.

Ichigo sat back, satisfied with his meal.

He hesitated, staring at Grimmjow uncertainly.

"Wh-what?" He asked, unnerved by the stare given to him.

"Thank... You..." Ichigo looked confused by his own actions, the proof flitting across his face before disappearing into the stones mask he wore.

Grimmjow nodded to him, then suddenly burst out with a demand.

"Tell me about yourself." He said, staring at Ichigo's half perplexed face.

"My name is Kurosaki Ichigo, I work at Miss Yoruichi." He said, Grimmjow waited for him to build on the statement. Nothing else came from the orangette.

"Any family?" Grimmjow asked, confused by the lack of information.

Ichigo thought for a moment. "No." For what he understood of the word family, there was nothing like that in his life.

"You have to have parents." Grimmjow dead panned.

"I do not know who my biological parents are."

"So you where adopted?"

"I don't know."

"Who takes care of you?" Grimmjow tried.

"Myself."

"Who took care of you as a child?" This was getting frustrating to the bluenette.

"Dislike." Ichigo said, seemingly random to Grimmjow. Ichigo was surprised at the rising feeling, another new emotion. He found that he disliked his 'Master'. It was another new sensation, not a strong feeling of hatred. Just a steady flow of discomfort at the name and a buzzing of irritation.

"Dislike?" Grimmjow tried to make sense of the single word Ichigo had uttered. Ichigo nodded.

"I dislike my childhood care taker." He expanded. His face seemed to draw farther in at the mention of the person. Grimmjow tried to bring the subject away from the confusing topic.

"How old are you?"

"I don't know."

If anyone else had said it, Grimmjow would have been sure they would have been lying. But this man seemed to take honest to a whole new level.

"Alright..." Grimmjow was greatly deterred by the lack of forthcoming information. He gave up.

"You can sleep on the couch, I'll get you blankets and you can use on of the pillows there." Grimmjow relented. Ichigo nodded, moving to the couch. He straightened the pillow there before pulling out a magazine hidden there.

Grimmjow gasped, snatching it away from him.

"Sorry, I guess I should have told you I was gay before inviting you here." He said in shame as he hide the gay porn behind his back.

"Why're you apologizing." It was more of a statement that a question coming from Kurosaki's mouth.

"Most people don't feel comfortable sleeping in a gay's house." Grimmjow said, staring in astonishment at the orangette.

"That's weird. Why wouldn't they?" Ichigo was seriously confused. Grimmjow wanted to smack the orangette across the head.

"You could get raped! Don't just follow random people home, you have no idea who they could be!" Grimmjow exclaimed.

"Nobody could rape me." Ichigo said, it was true. With the reflexes and multiple fighting styles crammed into his head, nobody would have a chance getting near him.

"Anybody could! You're too small." Grimmjow concluded, trying to fit that small sense of awareness into the orangette.

"Due to difficult circumstances, it physically impossible for a single person to overcome me in a fight. That includes with any types of weapons that are available." Ichigo deadpanned. Grimmjow gave up, he didn't want to freak out the orangette to the point he would run away back into the wet night.

"Alright, alright, just sleep." Half a minute passed before Grimmjow looked to see if Ichigo was ignoring him. He had already fallen asleep.

"Fast," Grimmjow murmured to himself.

He went into the bathroom to shower himself and set the orangette's clothing into the wash. He stooped down, snatching the dark clothing from the tiled floor.

It was strangely heavy for such thin, durable fabric. He walked to the washer, finally noticing the many pockets the black pants sported. He peeked into one, his eyes widening. There was a small white knife sheathed in the pockets depth. Grimmjow pulled out the weapon, staring at in shock. Did normal people carry knifes with them? Then again, he'd never considered Ichigo normal.

Resolved to learn about the man anyway possible, he started clearing the pockets out. Throwing stars, knifes, vials of suspicious liqiud, multiple knifes, clips of bullets, wires, lock picking equipment and hand cuffs were some of the items lining the orangette's pockets.

Grimmjow stared at the death toys he had lined on the white washer. Gray was indeed the color for Ichigo. Clothed with the color of night and handling the weapons of bone quality. Draped in black and striking with white, mix them together and there was Ichigo. Gray. Looking at the weapons, Grimmjow wasn't sure he'd ever see the man as a fragile doll anymore. Shaky, Grimmjow left the weapons sitting against the silver of his washer. They sat there as shadows dripped through the small widow, yet the darkness didn't pierce the pure white color of the death tools. They cooled in the night air, from the shaking of the washer they seemed to be shivering. Either in anticipation or from the cold night air, nobody knew.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun rose, spilling over the horizon in a splash of weak hues. The pale colors bled into the small apartment, spreading over tan skin. Grimmjow groaned at the soft light that fell over his closed eyes. He rose from his bed, rubbing his bleary eyes. He walked to the living room, no bright hair met him there. Not a trace of dirt, a stray hair, or even the dirtied dish from earlier remained. The massive array of weapons were gone, along with the cleaned clothing from the washer.

The only signs of the others presence was the neat pile of folded clothing of Grimmjow's he'd stripped off and left. That and the fleeting scent remaining on them.

Grimmjow pressed the fabric to his nose, breathing in the fresh scent there. It smelled of weeping clouds and a hint of cut mint leaves. It was refreshing. A scent Grimmjow would like to surround him constantly. Yet, he was sure the orangette was something dangerous. From the lack of opinions and emotions to the clip of bullets. Grimmjow didn't even want to know if he had a gun to go with it.

There was something else about Ichigo. Something that intrigued Grimmjow, made him want to follow that dangerous trail that the orangette seemed to follow. With that thought in mind, Grimmjow came to a conclusion.

He'd be visiting Miss Yoruichi's tonight.

* * *

Ichigo quickly turned into Urahara's favorite employee. They were getting new customers by the minute just from the rumors of the elegant, bottle spinning orangette.

Ichigo found the attention slightly bothersome, as he preferred not to be in the center of crowds. Crowds were dangerous, there were too many pushy hands and bodies moving around to get a real sense of alertness. Getting stabbed in the back was all too easy.

Yet, he found the pulsing beat of the music and the sparkling lights to be comforting in a high, thrilling manner. Ichigo loved watching the expressions set on display for him at the bar. It always ranged greatly throughout the evening.

There were false smiles, genuine grins, crest fallen features, sad wrinkles. All sporting the customers faces. It was addicting.

The people here hid nothing in there faces, everything was out to see. The contrast between himself and them was so great, he was almost jealous. As much as he wanted that for himself, he knew he was far from that open expressions and careless movements. No, he'd always be looking over his shoulder and palming the gun hidden beneath his clothing. Still, that was far better than being a lifeless tool in the hands of a madman.

A tap on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. He turned to the offender, still serving drinks while he stared at the cotton candy hair locks.

"Grimmjow." Ichigo said. "What do you want?"

"What ever you thinks best." Grimmjow answered, eager to try one of the orangette's hand mixed drinks. Ichigo nodded, throwing a couple of bottles behind his back only to catch them in his opposite hand before mixing a delicious blend for the bluenette.

He sipped the beverage, loving the explosion of perfectly mixed taste on his tongue.

"It's good." He complimented, grinning at Ichigo. A strange face passed Ichigo's features as he heard the compliment. Maybe... A flash of pride? Ichigo nodded to the man, serving more orders across the bar table.

"You can stay at my house again." Grimmjow said.

"Refuse." Ichigo deadpanned.

"Why? I won't rape you or anything." Not that he'd dare even entertain the thought after seeing those gun clips. "Is it cause I'm gay?"

"How is your sexuality relevant to me staying at your house?" Ichigo asked.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before." Grimmjow sighed, leaning his head against the counter. There was a blank silence from Ichigo after the statement.

"Why won't you, then?" Grimmjow finally asked, turning his head to look at the busy Ichigo. Ichigo temporarily froze, tiny bits of indecision parading through his head.

"Dangerous."

He turned away as another customer stole his attention. Grimmjow thought over the last word he'd uttered. Dangerous. From the stash of weapons lining his pockets, Grimmjow could already tell he was in some kind of trouble. That and the fact that Ichigo acted strange, his apathetic attitude consantly taking Grimmjow by surprise. He watched the orangette work, not a single emotion flitting across his impassive face.

The customers weren't the same. One man stared at the beautiful creature called Ichigo, lust evident on his every feature. It gave Grimmjow the chills that someone would be undressing the unknowing Ichigo with his eyes. Watching the pink tongue slid between the lecherous mans lips, Grimmjow decided to keep an eye on both Ichigo and the lust driven customer. Yeah, Ichigo was beautiful on a while different scale, but you just don't entertain your own personal fantasies because of it.

Grimmjow would be the first to admit he was attracted to the mans delicate features that warred with his bright, vibrant hair. But he'd also be first to say that no, he had no feelings for the orangette besides that attraction and the fear of his friend getting raped.

That was looking to become more and more probably the more Grimmjow observed the disgusting man rub his crotch while staring at Ichigo's fine ass. He shivered in horror at the display, now fearing for his friends virginity more than anything.

...was he a virgin?

Grimmjow could see that question going two ways. The first being Ichigo had no sexual desire, which seemed easily probable from his current attitude, and just hadn't made love. Or the second, Ichigo didn't care who he had sex with and was quite loose. Somehow the contrasting views both fit with the orangette's tiny personality, but Grimmjow couldn't decide which seemed more likely. He sighed, it wasn't his business and he really didn't like to hear about others sex lives. It reminded him of how small his own was.

Falling into a depression from his own thoughts, Grimmjow sipped his drink as he watched over Ichigo working quickly at the bar counter. The longer he watched, the longer his concern grew. Even after hours had passed, the man staring at Ichigo didn't move. His eyes traveled over the orangette's body, it freaked the bluenette out. Ichigo's shift ended, he gathered the black hoodie he had shed during the shift and walked out the door after sending a partin wave to Grimmjow. The perverted man followed. Grimmjow leapt from his seat and trailed after both of them.

Ichigo walked for a few minutes in the dark, suddenly he disappeared into a side alley. The man was right on his heels, Grimmjow listening at the corner.

"Do you need something?" Ichigo's voice was as cold as ice, ringing out from the night.

"Ya, yer pertty lil' ass round my dick." The sleaze bag said, a grin tearing at his features.

"Find a new date for the night, or else there will be no dick to pleasure yourself with." Ichigo replied, his voice dripping venom. Grimmjow could sense the danger in those words, he had no doubt Ichigo would follow up on his threat. The sleaze bag apparently didn't catch up on the seriousness of Ichigo's voice.

"Don' be tha way, pertty lil' thang." Grimmjow turned the corner to see the man lunging at Ichigo, a smirk on his face as he leered at orangette. His fingers grappled at Ichigo's clothing.

Grimmjow raised a fist to slam into the sleaze bag's mouth, but he wasn't quick enough.

Ichigo turned in a tornado of speed, his leg coming up impossibly high to the taller mans face. In less than half a second, he slammed into the man with his foot. His boot collided into the mans face, spittle flying from his open lips. He was knocked of his feet, Ichigo's slamming him down into the alleys pavement.

Ichigo's eyes burned, promising pain at another word. His heavy boots moved off of the mans body, leaving the shaken man to pick himself off the ground. Ichigo looked at Grimmjow as they left the alley, the simmering fire fading back to the usual ice.

"Guess I wasn't needed, was I?" Grimmjow murmured.

"No, you weren't." Ichigo agreed. Yowouch. That stung a little even if Grimmjow had said it first.

"You sure you don't want to stay over again tonight? Rapists are never few it seems." Grimmjow suggested.

"..." No reply came from Ichigo.

"You've had enough action for one night, come on." Grimmjow chuckled.

"What action?" Ichigo asked.

"Um... The fact you almost got raped maybe." Grimmjow said in disbelief. Ichigo stared at him in confusion.

"Is that an eventful moment in this style of life?" Ichigo's face was filled with disbelief.

"I'd think it'd be eventful in anybodies life!" Grimmjow replied, not believing the words that poured from the orangette.

"Oh, alright." Ichigo said simply.

"May I ask what is eventful in your own life?" Grimmjow asked, scared to hear the answer.

"Assassination attempts." Ichigo said honestly. Grimmjow didn't know whether or not to trust those words. Considering everything he'd seen pour from the lithe males pockets, he couldn't truthfully say he thought Ichigo was kidding. As if he ever made a joke in the short time they'd known each other. So he remained silent, trying to drink in the information surrounding Ichigo Kurosaki.

"We're here." Grimmjow announced as he unlocked the door, swinging open into the recently cleaned apartment. Ichigo nodded, standing at the entrance like a statue.

"Do whatever you'd like, have you eaten yet?" Grimmjow asked, throwing his coat down.

"Yes. I have eaten." With that, he climbed onto the sofa and promptly fell asleep. That was another thing that had been noticed by Grimmjow. Ichigo wasted no words, movements, or anything.

He said what needed to be said, nothing more nothing less. He stood stock still, as if at attention. He never tapped a foot, or jiggled a leg, he simply sat. It was almost eerie the way he behaved. Never moving positions once he settled, never making a twitch more than necessary. Every time he finally moved, it was if stone turned to life. Gaining color and features, it's face barely twisting to expressions.

Slowly and surely, it grew wilder, more like a natural being than a statue.

Grimmjow sighed, looking at the once returned statues face as he slept. He didn't look any different in the land of dreams. Ichigo's face still sported the neutrally drawn features, not a smile not a scowl. Nothing really painted upon his face as he slept. Grimmjow sighed, turning away. He startled as a knock sounded, redirecting his feet to the door instead of his bedroom.

He opened it, revealing a tall man. White strip of fabric covering his single missing eye, and lanky, thin limbs, he panted as he tried to recatch his breath from the apparent sprint.

"Nnoitra? What're you doing here?" Grimmjow asked in confusion, ushering the man inside. He collapsed to the wood flooring.

"Nel, they got Neliell." He gasped out.


	5. Chapter 5

"What happened?" Grimmjow demanded. His would was being torn apart at that moment. Flashes of Neliel flashed through his head. Her swarthy short legs struggling to run as she shrieked with laughter. Marsh green hair, the tiny pink scar resting on her nose.

Nnoitra had managed to catch his breath somewhat. "They found her, she was taken!" His voice was still a breathy whisper from the over exertion of sprinting to the apartment. Grimmjow still held a finger to his lips, pointing at the orange spikes tufting over the pillows on his sofa.

"He knew we wouldn't do what he wanted, he already damn knew." Nnoitra began, his throat aching from the screaming he'd done earlier at the note he'd found. Now he pulled it from his pocket, giving the crumpled paper to Grimmjow. It said very few words, scrawled messily over the wrinkled surface.

She'll be gone within the month.

Haunted words spread over the white paper as Grimmjow read. The sun fell at that moment, leaving the darkness to pour in through the windows to drown the occupants. And drown he did.

Grimmjow choked on the air, falling to his knees at a bruising speed. He shook his head wordlessly. Both Nnoitra and he stared at each other in abandon, the life dead in their eyes just as Neliel's would be sooner or later.

They both were silent as the night wore on, both staring at the slip of paper that had fallen from Grimmjow's grip. The air cooled, goosebumps creeping to the exposed skin across Grimmjow's arms and neck.

"What can we do?" Nnoitra said finally, breaking the sullen silence of shadows from around them.

"The money's gone, you know that Nnoitra." Grimmjow replied, his voice dead as he spoke.

"I know. Can we get it all back somehow?" Nnoitra asked, his voice tiny.

"Tell me how we can earn 38532000000 yen (4 million dollars) in a month, please." Grimmjow snarled. At that Nnoitra fell silent.

"I'm sorry. We're both tired, lets just go to sleep, okay? Let the situation set in before we start doing something crazy." Grimmjow sighed, running his hands through his hair. Nnoitra nodded, dusting off his pants as he stood. He snatched a blanket and pillow from the bluenette's bed, opting to sleep on the floor.

Grimmjow glanced at the sleeping Ichigo, satisfied he had slept through the lengthy conversation. Exhausted, he quickly fell into a mind numbing sleep.

The darkness churned in the absence of the human's activity, letting shadows flit across walls in a dance of danger. Now it was the ghost's time to play.

Ichigo rose slowly from the sofa, his eyes instantly adjusted to the thick darkness curling around him. He had heard every word the men had murmured into the shadows, each branding his mind. His feet slide across the floor, not a sound made as he walked to the door.

It opened and closed without a creak, the looming peril behind the barrier embracing Ichigo as an old friend.

Neliel. Neliel. Neliel. That was the word racing through his head, burnt into his soul. Grimmjow shouldn't have sounded so lifeless, it didn't fit the vigor the bluenette held in life. Ichigo hated it. He hated the dead eyes, the dead voice. It grew from his toes in a mad disease and took over his body. He had to make Grimmjow eyes shine again, and if he needed Neliel to do that, he'd rescue her.

It was easy. Finding the Marsh Head in Aizen's database, Ichigo had hacked it in less than a hour. Instantly etching the location in his mind, he set off. Shadows curled around him as his figure melded into the sea of black. Before they devoured him completely, a stark white mask consumed his face.

* * *

Grimmjow's alarm rang in the middle of the night, right for when he set it. He couldn't let Nnoitra get pulled into this. Not when it was his father that accumulated the debt, now he would pay for it. Not Nel, not Nnoitra, only him. There was only one thing he could do, even if it killed him inside. Beg. Beg that Nel would be saved, that they take his own life instead. That would be enough, wouldn't it? Grimmjow could only pray to the gods hiding behind the misty clouds that it was.

The floor boards creaking and fabric rustling, Grimmjow slide out the window into the deep black of night. He knew where Nel would be, Tousen would have her.

He was all to familiar with the blinded man. He was a sadistic figure, thriving on the blood pouring from others, how it painted spotless floors in a array of complicated patterns. He ached for that taste of red liquid, the metallic smell fermenting into the air. It was sickening, stomach revolting to watch. Tousen didn't care, he loved that feeling. The feeling of fear stricken eyes as he sloshed through the blood from your loved ones.

Grimmjow swallowed audibly, his throat jumping at the crimson wave length of thoughts running through his head. He brought his motorcycle out from the garage, bringing it to life with a spin of his keys.

It purred, the sound silky smooth under Grimmjow's thighs. It was somewhat comforting. With his sanity still intact, Grimmjow raced down the streets. Street lamps flew by him, their dull light taken over by broken bulbs and the over eager night. Minutes dragged on for what seemed like hours. Time stilling into the purr of his bike and the shift of his hands. Then he was there.

Grimmjow set his bike partially hidden between alleys. Frantically, he tried to think of a way to redeem the mistake of his father without drawing blood and life from himself and others. There was none, not even the vaguest idea springing to mind. Pitted in the deep ground and surrounded by coffins, Grimmjow walked to the double doors leading to Tousen's hostage.

Halls passed, colorless pictures flew by. Grimmjow could only think of his sweet little adopted sister holding onto her thread of life with Tousen grasping the shearing scissors. It was too much. Too much had been sprung on him, his soul was withering inside. Grimmjow knocked on the door that he was sure Tousen was masked behind.

"Enter." The voice was baritone, careless and lazy. Deep thrill was hiddenly embedded in the false voice, yet Grimmjow could seek it out in a second. Tousen. He pushed the doors open, facing off with an image that would burn through his mind for the rest of his life.

Neliel was cuffed by the ankle to a bed post, tears running down her face in a flowing stream. Her noise dripped, leaking over the long brown shirt she always wore. Her voice was raw from all the crying she had done, but Grimmjow could still hear her tiny, shaky voice as she spoke.

"Grimmjow, help..." She could barely speak as more sobs rolled through her, tears ran anew in a torrent of vigor. Grimmjow snapped.

"Why did you do this to a little girl!" He called out, his voice trembling with rage. His hands clenched into powerful weapons of knuckles, his body shaking from the rage surging through him.

Tousen laughed. He simly roared with laughter, the sound echoing into the empty spaces around him. The continuation of the voice seemed to mock Grimmjow's ears as they slide by him again and again.

"Let her go! Kill me instead, don't take an innocent girls life." Grimmjow yelled, his resolve to worship the ground before Tousen dissolving in hate.

"Grimmjow, Grimmjow, Grimmjow." Tousen sighed. "You don't get it, your father took four million dollars out of my pocket. That means four lives I get in return. The sweet little girls, yours, and your friend Nnoitra. I've already stolen your fathers life, now I only have to collect the tall ones." Tousen hummed, his voice happy with the idea of more blood to soak his walls. Grimmjow growled, his rationality flew out the door. He leapt at Tousen's throat, his fist pulled back ready for a strike. He wasn't nearly fast enough, not even close.

Grimmjow's vision blurred as he was thrown into a head lock, cold steel pressed to the back of his head. The metal pressed into his scalp, parting the aqua locks there in favor of the skin. He breathed heavily, his blood pulsing in rage as red filled his vision.

He couldn't do a single thing. Grimmjow was frozen as the gun pressed to his head, not being able to resist when metal cuffs devoured his wrists. He thrashed in the arms holding him down, more men had come to release Tousen's hold on the bluenette.

Grimmjow wanted to kill ever human in that room. Voices jeered at him as he was shoved to his knees, tiny hands petted his face in a comforting caress. He looked up, finding Neliel's teary face staring back at him. She sniffled, touching his blue locks.

"It'll be okay, Nel. I promise." Grimmjow whispered, the voices that yelled behind him dulling to an obnoxious buzz. She nodded, swiping the tears from her face. They both knew how empty that promise was.

The only thing those words held was the empty promise of a new day, unbound by others revenge. Those were things Grimmjow couldn't bring with his aching fists, or the soft whisper of words below his breath. He could only try to comfort the scared, frightened face infront of him. Yet, even that was not an easy task. Nel was too smart to know everything would be okay, she knew death was hanging above the siblings. The reapers scythe would harvest their souls sooner or later.

So she cried.

"Tousen." The room froze in that instant, voices catching as conversation ceased. Chills bolted throughout the room, freezing the air around them at a single presence. It was a demon from hell, perched on the window seal. Every set of eyes knew that. Nobody had heard the man come, nobody had seen the window open, nobody knew how long the figure had sat observing them. All they could do was tremble in the spell put over them.

Black darkness dripped from his features as he sat against the single opening to the night sky. It curled around him in tendrils, clothing his skin against the dull light of the room. Stark white against the gnawing shadows, bone interrupted the silky darkness. It wasn't human, pure white jaws slide from the mouth instead of lips. The demons face curved outward matching the beasts rotting in Hell's raging inferno. Slitted eyes, glowing from the ivory and onyx they were set in. Yet they demon bleed.

Jagged marks torn into its features, speckles of crimson marked them. Three claw marks, marring the left of his face descending down to his jaws and teeth. Nobody could move as they stared at the surreal apparition before them. They were set trembling under his golden eyes burning through the bone masking them.

Then it shatter in an instant. He unfolded his legs from underneath him, resting them at his sides.

"Number 015! Aizen has been searching for you." Tousen gasped. "Report what happened after your mission." He ordered. The masked demon was silent, still staring out at the floor beneath him.

Tousen sighed, as if he was dealing with a young child.

"I, Tousen, subordinate of Aizen, order Doll Number 015 to descend to the ground." Finally the masked face rested on Tousen's dark features. Not a sound was made as the demon fell from the open window, his feet falling soundless to the ground. Tousen laughed with glee at the new toy that had appeared before him. He petted the good drawn over the demon's head as if rewarding a dog.

"Grimmjow, let me introduce you to this terror. This here is Aizen's finest toy of three, Doll Number 015." Tousen said, watching Grimmjow's wide eyes as he stared at the ethereal demons form.

"It's beautiful isn't it? In a horrible way. You see, these puppets don't have any feelings. No desire, no emotion, no pleasure. They wake when told to, they sleep at an order. We've trained them that way. Without an order to get them on their way, they'd die. But this one here, he's special. Number 015 is Aizen's favorite puppet, because he can do slight things by himself. He's perfect, just the right amount of obedience and he follows through on every order. Do you get it?" Tousen asked, running his hands across the demons back as he spoke.

Grimmjow shook his head, he couldn't understand what this monster in front of him really was.

Tousen sighed at the fearful confusion on the bluenette's face. "I'll use an example of why this Doll is so perfect. The other Dolls, take Number 457 for example, would kill some one with a single order. 015 here would kill them and clean up the body with the same order. He has enough thought in his head to go the whole nine yards with only the words kill so and so. That's why he's special to Aizen. That's why he's perfect. He is the ultimate assassin for Aizen to drag along." Tousen said, grinning.

Grimmjow shuddered, all through the long speech the assassin made no move, said no words of denial or opinion.

"It's beautiful isn't it? It isn't human anymore, Grimmjow. It doesn't feel pain, or feel emotions. It's only a puppet." Tousen smirked at the horror written across Grimmjow's face at the words.

"Number 015, kill the little girl." The assassin didn't move at the orders he only stared at the hunched figures at his feet, bowed at his mercy as Tousen's voice echoed around him.

A tiny shiver ran through him, unnoticeable to all but the Marsh Headed Girl. Her tiny voice spoke as the rest of the room was chilled into silence.

"You're an angel, aren't you?" Her trembling voice asked, filled with glee.

Behind the bone of the mask, behind the darkness of cloth, behind the contacts of gold. Ichigo Kurosaki cried. He felt naked under the innocent eyes, his body bared for those malicious eyes around him to see. Tousen's silky voice wrapping around him in orders, he had begun to fall again, fall into the deep hole that was called Number 015.

The training set into his bones warred against the feelings petaled in his soft heart, he wanted to follow that voice. Lose himself again in that merciless pounding of blood and soul sucking business of life. He didn't want to feel the hard emotions, the pain that the new life he'd found had brang to him. He didn't understand it, he only wanted to fit in under that golden sun with everyone else. Yet, somehow he couldn't. The only person who'd seen him was the bright, open and brilliant Grimmjow. He had taken him home, fed him delicious food and tried to help him against assailants. He was truly strange. Now he had gone to try and help that same man, and gotten tangled in the silky orders of his past. Yet a single voice reminded him what he was now. He was the protecter, not the killer.

"You're an angel, aren't you?" Those words were exactly what he needed. Someone had seen past the darkness of his heart and seen the vulnerability. Marsh Head. Maybe, maybe he could be some kind of angel.

"Kill her, Doll Number 015. Then run back to Aizen and tell him why you're so late." Tousen growled. That was all it took. Ichigo spun on his heel, facing Tousen and the men quivering behind him. The almost delicate looking pistol in his hand rose, the silent tool of death silver against the dull lighting of the room.

It fired seven times, seven times the men behind Tousen dropped to the ground dead. All in half a second, Tousen was standing stunned, all alone against an angel of death. The cold metal was raised to his head, pressed against the middle of his forehead. The cold ring of metal sending shudders down his body.

"Number 015? What're you doing?" Tousen asked, his voice trembling. Blood was pooled at their feet, soaking into Tousen's shoes. Ichigo didn't reply to the question asked. He just stared at the eyes of a person he once called Master. The man who stood at the left side of Aizen. Seeing him tremble beneath his gun, seeing the fear stricken across his face. It was sickening. Utterly sickening that Ichigo had brought this man to his knees in no more than a second. That he was trembling under his own arm, fighting for the authority to order Ichigo to turn the tables once again.

"You have to kill them, 015. You know who your Masters are." Tousen begged.

Ichigo didn't say a word, his finger flicked back sending the hard metal that would end Tousen's life into his skull.

Tousen slumped to the ground, blood seeping down his face as his life vanished from his dulling eyes.

Grimmjow couldn't speak, the world had spun around so quickly. One second their lives had been about to end and the next, eight had been killed in a blink. All that was left was the demon standing before them, painted in black and hidden behind white.

Yet, that sparkling voice seemed to think differently of the shadowed ghost before them.

"See, Grimm? I told you he was an angel." She said, her face sparkled from the tears previously shed. Yet, she was grinning now. Grimmjow could only wordlessly nod, staring at the stock still monster before them. No, the dark angel over them, impossibly tall as they were crouched to the ground.

He pulled a knife from the fold of his clothing, throwing it until it embedded into the ground. Snapping the chain that held the cuffs together. His wrists were free, but his head was still caught in the overwheing aura of the being in front of him. He waited for the masked angel to say something, anything. But he didn't. He turned away, walking away from the newly freed pair.

"Wait!" Grimmjow cried out frantically. He couldn't let this person go, he owed them their lives. He didn't know what to say, they were disappearing right before his eyes. "Wh-What's your name?!"

The figure halved turned towards the bluenette. Looking side ways at him through the mask slits.

"Shirosaki." One word, only a single word breathed over the wind. Then he was gone, the shadows devouring him as he disappeared into their depth.

Left alone, Grimmjow turned to Nel to free her from the cuff around her ankle. Eventually he ended up having to dig through Tousen's corpse's pockets to find the keys. Unlocking the broken cuffs from his own hands and Nel's single restraint, he pulled her out of the hell hole.

Grimmjow didn't feel safe until they were both seated on his purring bike and racing under the peeking bits of sun embedded into the blanket of night. It was calming. Neliel on his back, his bike between his legs, and the silent night to swoon them into the safety of their beds.

* * *

Later in the night, across the dark sea separating them, Aizen grinned. His favorite puppet had been spotted, he would have never guessed the plaything would have run away from his Masters. Yet, not only that, he had massacred one of his loyalist men and all of his closest subordinates. Eight people in all, downed by a single silver gun. Aizen went over the tapes again, Number 015 was entrancing. He held so much more than his other Dolls. They didn't radiate fear, their eyes didn't carry the fire of hell with in them. No, Doll Number 015 held something else entirely. It was almost if he really was a demon rising from the pits of Hell. Aizen couldn't stop the mad smile from overtaking his face.

Would the doll keep on denying the god that had created him? Aizen chuckled to himself. He wouldn't be able to, Aizen had created the being to perfection. Number 015 would come racing back into his arms at a single word.

He roared with laughter as the tapes came to an end once again. What had he called himself?

Shirosaki.

"Welcome to the real world, Shirosaki." Aizen grinned, weaving his fingers together.


	6. Chapter 6

The coming morning was something Ichigo 'slept' through. He had no desire to partake in their celebration of Marsh Head's return. So after the round of near tears from Nnoitra, and Grimmjow refusing to let go of her for over an hour, he was startled to feel a small finger poking him. He opened his eyes, glancing over at the Marsh Head that was staring at him.

Nnoitra and Grimmjow had left for the kitchen to make a warm breakfast when she had snuck over to the orangette.

"You're my guardian angel, aren't you?" She said with a smirk. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at the incredible observant six year old.

She giggled, "I knew it, I won't tell Angel-san." She couldn't keep the grin from stretching from cheek to cheek.

"Ichigo, call me Ichigo." Ichigo replied, touching her swampy colored hair. She nodded solemnly, crossing her heart in a promise. Then she leapt onto his lap, cuddling into him. Ichigo froze. He had no idea what he was suppose to do.

In his previous life, he had had missions to get close to people, draw information from their mouths, seduce them into pillow talk. Yet, he had never had to handle a child. Now Marsh Head was bouncing in his lap, babbling on about some subject of child affairs. He was utterly lost.

It was that moment Grimmjow entered the room, instantly falling into roaring laughter. Ichigo and Neliel both looked at him with questioning gazes.

"Y-You just looked so damn awkward sitting there with Nel," Grimmjow choked out. "It's the first time I've seen you so unsure, it looks freaking hilarious."

"Don't make fun of Itsygo!" Marsh Head screamed, her voice grating on Ichigo's nerves. "He's my ang-..." She thought momentarily. "He's my friend, not yours!" She yelled, pointing indignantly at her blue haired brother.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, we can say that. Right, Ichi?" He laughed some more. Ichigo was beyond confused.

"Right?" He asked, scrunching his brow into a half scowl. That only made Grimmjow burst out in laughter again.

"Hey ya'll, breakfast is done." Nnoitra called from the kitchen. Feet pattered into the kitchen, seating themselves at the table. A breakfast of omelets and orange juice was set before the trio, Nnoitra looking proudly at his creations of eggs.

"Hey! Who're you kid?" He barked at Ichigo.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." Ichigo murmured, taking a bite of the omelet before him.

"Has he been here the whole time?" Nnoitra asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, he was on the couch, Nnoitra." Grimmjow smiled.

"He wasn't when I woke up..." Nnoitra grumbled under his breath. Ichigo paused, seeing if he'd ask further on the subject. When the conversation turned from the comment, he returned his attention to the plate in front of him.

"I have to work today. Grimm, can you watch Neliel?" Nnoitra asked. He was Neliel's usual babysitter.

"No, I'm sealing a business deal today and will be in meetings." Grimmjow said with a frown.

"Can I stay with Itsygo?!" Neliel screamed in delight. "Please, please, please, please..." She begged, attaching herself onto his back like a leech.

"No way I'm leaving Nel to some stranger!" Nnoitra yelled in indignation. That's when a beautiful plan bloomed inside Grimmjow's head.

Neliel had surprisingly attached her self to the orangette, and Grimmjow trusted her intuition of people. She had never been wrong yet. There was one thing though, Ichigo was incredibly naive to the ways of the world.

Grimmjow wanted to open his eyes to the brightness that the world held, not the stormy side that Ichigo seemed to walk. He couldn't help that he was a tiny bit attracted to the orangette, even if his personality was almost nonexistent. Yeah, there was no doubt his personality sucked.

Still, he wanted to see Ichigo genuinely smile. See his lips turn up with unguarded joy, his eyes shining with the fire and passion Grimmjow knew was hidden deep inside him. That's when he began to plan out the day.

"Ichigo, you don't have work do you?" Grimmjow asked, knowing Urahara would have given him at least a day off somewhere in the week. He was lucky.

"No, I have the day off." Ichigo replied.

"Could you possibly go with Nel to the Zoo?" Grimmjow asked grinning. If anyone could put the orangette in a good mood it'd be Neliel's sunny personality.

He cocked his head to the side, "If you wish me too." He replied simply. Grimmjow nodded in agreement. An hour later he was stuffed into Grimmjow's 'normal clothing' instead of his black hoodie and pocketed pants. Wearing a tee-shirt with the words 'Nice Vibe' on it and practical faded jeans. He refused to take off his boots in favor of the thin tennis shoes. Neliel was attached to Ichigo's hand as she led him the the zoo, Grimmjow waving good bye and Nnoitra at his side grumbling.

They passed huge iron gates, twisted into turns and curls. They payed the man the money Grimmjow had provided, he had supported the entry fee and lunch costs. Marsh Head was spouting about something Ichigo couldn't follow when he spotted the first creature.

"It's a bear." He commented in disbelief. Neliel laughed.

"At the zoo there is lottsa creatures, Itsygo." She giggled, pulling him closer to the bears enclosure. For hours on end, Neliel dragged through the gates of the Zoo.

Ichigo was amazed. The Zoo was filled to the brim with people of all kinds. Fat people, skinny people, blacks, whites, lesbians, gays and a few bi's. It was extraordinary. Balloons flew through the air, unrestrained by strings. Cotton candy spun, letting drifting wisps fly in the air. Lights whirled at games, children cried as their parents dragged them along. People passing were a blur, their faces instantly storing themselves in Ichigo's mind.

Then there was the animals. Ichigo had heard of tigers and panthers, put he had never seen one. He didn't understand how beautiful the creatures were until he was standing before their enclosures watching their muscles bunch as they walked. Black stripes, rippling fur, Mohawks of feathers, painted scales, giant feet. The Zoo was bursting with colors. Ichigo loved every second of it.

The sun hit the center of the sky right as Neliel complained of hunger. She demanded to eat at Altoway, a sandwich shop that had her goodwill. They settled to eat their lunches in view of the cheetah's enclosure.

"You know, that cheetah had a baby last year." Marsh Head said, her mouth full. "They released the cheetah into the wild. They made a documentary on it, me and Grimm watched it."

"What was it about?" Ichigo asked, actually interested in a subject for once.

"He struggled to hunt for a long time, not used to the savannah. Then he found two brother cheetahs and they adopted him. Only them could he become like a real wild cheetah." Neliel grinned.

Ichigo nodded at the story as he watched the spotted cheetah stroll across the short cage.

"Nobody is meant to live in a cage." Neliel said, sighing at the magnificent creature before her.

Ichigo nodded. It was true, nobody should have to live in a cage.

"Lets go home," Marsh Head said. "Grimm and Nnoitra should be getting off work right about now." She grinned as she took her Angel's hand and drug him out of the Zoo.

Neliel was right on the mark. As soon as the pair flopped down on the couch, the sound of a bike settling into the garage downstairs was heard. Grimmjow entered a moment later, followed by Nnoitra.

"Nnoitra, you babysit Nel. I'm going to go show Ichigo around town." Grimmjow said with a wide grin. "Come on," He yanked Ichigo to his feet, pulling him onto down to the garage and onto his motorcycle.

"Where are we going?" Ichigo asked, letting Grimmjow pull a helmet over his face and hair.

"There's a nice restaurant up town that I'd like you to see. We should get there in about two hours, three if we take the scenic route. Which ever you'd like." Grimmjow said, the engine rumbling to life.

"The scenic route." Ichigo replied. He wanted to see more of the beauty of Japan. He had had a full lesson on the diversity of people and now was aching for a look of the world around him.

"As you wish," Grimmjow smiled, he always loved the scenic route even if it took longer.

He jetted down the street, his heart pounding as Ichigo tightened his grip around his waist. He liked the orangette, he couldn't deny that. Even if he was a little strange... Or a lot of strange. The slighter mans view on life were so different from the normal persons, Grimmjow found it endearing.

Ichigo on the other hand was enthralled by the landscape before him. At one moment they were passing salty sweet air and rolling waves of navy and then the next were flying by fluffy clouds whipped into swirls over fields of rice. It was breathtaking. He had had his fair share of clubs and high city skyscrapers, but never the country side at its max. Clinging to Grimmjow's warm back, watching the sun sink lower over the green grass and fresh air. It was a heaven of some sort, a heaven his angel would love to be in forever.

Passing the beautiful sights of the country, Grimmjow dived back into the city. He flew past bars and towering buildings. He parked in underground parking, leaving Ichigo wonder where they were going to dinner.

They ended up high above the city, seated against giant windows. Ichigo's eyes widened in awe as the city fell under a soft golden light. Not quite sunset, but still retaining a dream like quality as the light shimmered over the glass filled city. It sparkled, gleaming as if brand new. Light fell over buildings and pavement, cars and people, trees and fountains until the whole creation was a city of gold.

Ichigo could only stare at the sight below him, thoroughly stunned at the ethereal sight below his feet.

"You like it?" Grimmjow asked, sipping his drink as he stared at Ichigo's tiny upturned lips. Ichigo could only nod, lost for words. He wanted to engrave that image of the golden city deep into his mind. Remember the painted gold walls and the pulsing sun behind it all.

Their food came and they ate, having very little conversation. They were both content with the vision before them. Ichigo with the city of gold and Grimmjow with the amazed features flying over Ichigo's face.

That's what he wanted. He wanted Ichigo to experience something new, let his emotions spread out from the right grip his head held on them. And he wanted to be the one to experience that with the orangette. Looking at Ichigo's face as faded golden light ran over it, lighting his skin in a warm glow. His honey eyes softening as he stared at the beautiful city they towered over, his pink lips opened in a tiny O of amazement. Grimmjow knew this was the right choice for the orangette. The slightest curve of his lips told Grimmjow all he needed to know, Ichigo was in love with the golden city Grimmjow had shown him.

It seemed to end far to quickly for Ichigo, their food disappearing and the light fading into hues of purple and red. Grimmjow chuckled at his downtrodden expression.

"We have one more stop," he assures Ichigo.

"Is it as good as the rest of the sights?" Ichigo asked, his mind couldn't comprehend anything more beautiful.

"I think so." Grimmjow said, refitting the helmet over Ichigo's tangerine hair. Then they were riding again, flying over roads in the setting sun light. They parked at the edge of a forest right as the sun set behind the mountains, enveloping them in a blue tinted light.

"This way," Grimmjow said, grabbing the orangette's hand and leading him along. Ichigo couldn't believe the sight around him.

Huge rough trunks bristling with branches and leaves touched the heavens above him. Chirps of birds chorused in the fading day. Grimmjow pulled him through the trees, lightly stepping over ferns and flowers as he pulled them deeper into the forest. Then he stopped, Ichigo running into his back with a thump.

"Close your eyes, Ichigo." Grimmjow whispered. Ichigo nodded his head, his eyes sliding shut as he waited for the sight masked behind Grimmjow's back. Warm fingers caressed his face as Grimmjow's hand slide to cover his closed eyes.

A warm body pressed against his back as they're positions switched. Grimmjow let out a breathy sigh in his ear, leaving Ichigo to wonder what was to be seen the blue light forest.

"Open your eyes." Grimmjow breathed, his voice almost another flutter of the soft breeze stroking their skin.

Ichigo did.

He gasped, walking forward a step only to spin around in order to see the sight gathered around him.

"It can't be real..." He murmured, but it was. Stretched under the blanket of darkness was hundreds of thousands of glimmering balls of fire glowing in the air. They sank lower to ground before rising again, fluttering by the soft leaves and gentle flowing grass. Their forms reflected on the pond before him, seeming to be an endless array of light as they swooned over the ponds mirrored surface. Not a single ripple disturbed the glass, not a single glowing star dipped into the liquid in their solemn dance.

Ichigo couldn't speak, he couldn't move his eyes away for a single second. They were fairies, he was sure. Dipping low over the ground only to rise elegantly to the sky again. Millions of bright beings flooded between huge trees and fluttered over dark water. There in the middle of the scene was a wide willow, bent over by the weight of its hanging branches. They sat alit on the branches. The weeping tree glowed under the branches filled with starlight. Each leaf holding its own glowing manifestation.

Ichigo spun around one more time before he was finally able to take a breath.

"Wh-What are they?" He asked in a breathy whisper. Grimmjow came behind him, taking his hands and rising them to the sky of glowing pulsing lights.

"Fireflies." He said simply, raising their joined hands to the lit flies above them. Ichigo drew a shaky breath in as the fire fairies drew around him, their glowing bodies fluttering at his fingertips and resting against his out stretched arms. They settled on Grimmjow's and his clothing and rised fingers, lighting their bodies against the dark night.

Ichigo turned to Grimmjow, facing him with their arms entwined in an embrace of the fire twinkling around them. A smile lit his face.

Not a simple curvature of the lips, a genuine, beaming grin that shined brighter than the sun. Full lips spreading over his face in a grin that made his noise crinkle slightly and his eyes burn with a passion Grimmjow hadn't ever seen. Staring in awe at the beautiful expression painted across Ichigo's face, Grimmjow could only know one thing for certain.

He was in love with Kurosaki Ichigo.


	7. Chapter 7

**Short Authors note(feel free to skip): Thank you all for the reviews! I love them all to death, here's some special thank you's to a couple of my favorites. Mayuzu's made me real happy as she complimented a exactly what I was trying for in this fic, thanks! And to mist shadow, sorry. I don't look at fan art so I have no links to give for my scenes. I thought of all of those in my head, but I wish there was a picture for them! And I'd like to especially thank Don'tClimbOnThat for her/his comment. In the last chapter I said that Ichigo saw gays, lesbians and a few bis, she/he brought to my attention that you can't really tell someone's sexuality from ther appearance. Yes I already knew that but I instantly felt bad for seeming to stereotype people, because I hate it when people stereotype. I apologize and am very glad she/he brought that to my attention. To WhiteW12-0, thank you for the compliment! I'm a very impatient reader for other people's fics so I write out my whole story before posting. I hate waiting and don't want to push that on others so I update everyday. It's not that hard when the whole stories already there:) thank you Hollow Ichigo-Ichigo for your constant reviews, I really appreciate them. That also goes to Aria6 and all my other reviewers. Thank you all for taking the time to make my day! Before I let you go to read chapter seven, I'll let you know that it's a little more than half over at this point. Sorry my 'short' authors note wasn't that short. I'll torture you again probably at the end of the fic, I just wanted to thank you all because of the land slide of reviews, favorites and follows I've gotten from chapter 6. Thank you all again!**

**FrostySquid**

**BTW: I do not own Bleach, but you all know that so I didn't feel the need to post that at every chapter. Also, this is rated M for a reason. There will eventually be some Lemon. Be patient, it's coming:)**

Chimes. The tinkling of chimes brought Ichigo out of his meditational sleep. He sat up stretching. Grimmjow and he had stayed up late watching the strange fire flies roam through the air. By the time they had returned, they were both exhausted.

Sometime during the night, Neliel had snuck over to sleep with him on the sofa, bringing along her stuffed animal. It was actually more of a monster than animal, the toy had centipede legs and a giant head and maw.

Ichigo would have attempted to make a breakfast for the himself, Grimmjow and Marsh Head, but had no idea how to start even. Sighing, he stood to get ready for the day. He had a single shift at Miss Yoruichi's and would be free for the rest of the day. He grabbed a note pad and pencil, quickly writing 'Going to work' on the paper before slipping out the door. He knew the bluenette would appreciate the note. He liked the bluenette. Grimmjow always managed to stir up the emotions in him like nobody else could. It was strange, but he found himself aching for more time with the bluenette.

To some extent, Ichigo was jealous of the man. He had thick muscles corded around his arms and torso, he was unbelievably strong. Ichigo could tell with a single glance. He promoted a rough sort of grace, something only years of street fighting could bring. Plus, he had that deep sun tanned skin stretching across his every feature. He was so confident with every step he took, never doubting himself or his actions. He didn't look back and he didn't regret. Ichigo admired that in a person. He wished he was born with Grimmjow's strong build, that was another thing that brought Ichigo to like the other even more. The jealousy he brought, along with the happiness. The untarnished joy as he open Ichigo's eyes to the world around him. There was so much more that white painted walls and training how to kill someone in a single blow. No, in this world there were tiny bugs that glowed in the night. There were cites made of gold and animals painted with spots and stripes.

He had never known these things before the couple of days he had known the bluenette.

Now he looked for the man in a crowd, his chest pulsing with admiration, adoration. Something else also, he couldn't put a name to the strange feeling. Was he attracted to the man? He had slept with men and women alike depending to the missions given to him. He had never enjoyed the act, having distanced his mind and body since a young age. Ichigo had never shown the blatant lust and desire his targets had, only the need to finish his goal and run back to Aizen. Sleeping with others had brought him no pleasure, only the experience of seeing another moan and wither in the feeling. Would Grimmjow be different? Ichigo didn't know, and he didn't know if he ever would.

After his work, Neliel and Grimmjow were waiting for him hand in hand outside the bar. He let a tiny smile grace his lips at the sight.

"Nnoitra had to leave last night, otherwise we would have dragged him with us!" Marsh Head instantly yelped as Ichigo came into speaking distance.

"..." He had no interest in the dark and lanky man.

"Wanna come see a movie and get dinner with us?" Grimmjow asked, grinning.

"Sure." Ichigo murmured, taking his place at Neliel's right hand. He still wore Grimmjow's 'normal' clothing, but had restocked the outfit with his usual array of weapons. He felt no need to venture into the unknown without being fully prepared.

They watched some 'chick flick' as Grimmjow called it to satisfy the Marsh Head's whims. Truely, Ichigo found it intriguing. He wondered how two people could fall in love with in six days. Grimmjow was groaning through the whole movie, while Neliel was sobbing and Ichigo just didn't get it. Even though he asked Grimmjow millions of questions pertaining to why characters did certain things and such. Grimmjow found that very amusing, and tried to answer them all the best he could.

The movie was coming to a close, showing the last steamy sex scene. Grimmjow reached over to cover Neliel's innocent eyes when Ichigo leaned over to him.

"Why're they having sex?" Ichigo asked seriously. Grimmjow had a mixed reaction to that question. The first was to burst out laughing, the second was to blush and wonder how anybody could not know the answer to that.

"Um... Because when to people love each other, they wanted to be closer than just the hearts?" Grimmjow tried, the mood becoming increasingly awkward to him.

"Strange." Ichigo replied. Grimmjow looked at him in confusion, how was that strange at all?

"Have you ever has sex?" He asked, not daring to guess what the answer would be.

"Yes." Ichigo replied.

"Didn't you lov-like your... Partner?" Grimmjow asked, slightly unsure of whether he was telling the truth.

"In the way of love? No. I have not been attracted to any man or women I've slept with." Ichigo returned. Grimmjow's mind was racing. He had said 'man or women'. That meant he was bi? Yet, he also said that he hadn't felt any attraction to his partners, so Grimmjow couldn't be sure.

"Uh... Are you gay, or bi, or straight?" Grimmjow asked, confused. Ichigo cocked his head in perplextion.

"I do not know. What ever was chosen for me at the moment?" Ichigo tried.

"Have you felt any attraction to anybody?" Grimmjow was starting to depress himself with the onslaught of question that seemed to deem Ichigo rather... asexual.

"Yes, I think you are an attractive being." Ichigo said, finally his lips turning to a small smile that his mind was made up. Grimmjow was speechless. Ichigo thought he was attractive? Out of everybody, he only though he was attractive.

"Oh..." Grimmjow said, thoroughly surprised by the orangette's boldness. "I think your attractive too." He admitted.

"I'm attractive?" Ichigo asked in disbelief. While on missions he had compliments poured onto him, but that wasn't the real him. That was Doll Number 015, not Kurosaki Ichigo. Grimmjow had seen him for his real self and still thought he was desirable. He was astonished.

"Yeah," Grimmjow said, eyeing the look of surprise on the younger's face. He smirked at the tiny amount of blush on Ichigo's cheeks.

"Oh... Alright." He made no further move to continue the conversation, so Grimmjow left it at that. Ichigo felt like he was burning up inside. He had no idea what this feeling was. Instead it just raged through out him, the only manifest of his inner turbulent was the light, pink tinted blush leaking through his composure. For some reason it was pleasing that the bluenette found him attractive. Even if it was only a small thing to be grateful for.

The movie began rolling through credits by the time they had reached the theaters exit. Grimmjow and Ichigo walked side by side, Neliel skipping ahead of them. Every once in awhile their shoulders would bump, making Ichigo's lips to upturn and Grimmjow to smirk widely.

They passed through the city streets, watching the sun set lower and the street shops flip on their lights. Ichigo couldn't imagine anything less peaceful. That was until an all to familiar sound met his ears.

The silky sweet sound of a gun cocking, steps sliding against pavement, the whisper of clothing against clothing. Ichigo reacted without a second though, instantly slamming into the gun mans dominant hand with a foot. The weapon skidded back into the alley he had concealed himself in, Ichigo didn't give him a second to retaliate. His limbs whipped up, his legs pushing the assailant into the nearest wall. Ichigo's hands were quick, jabbing strikes into nerves and weak flesh until he fell to his knees gasping. A hand pressed against his arm, stoping the torrent of blows.

"That's enough," Grimmjow said gently, lightly brushing his hand down to Ichigo's. "I'll take it from here." He smiled widely.

Ichigo nodded, slightly hesitant. Nobody had ever stopped his outrages, they were a thing to be feared. Yet, Grimmjow had calmed the storm boiling inside him with a single touch.

"Who're you?" Grimmjow asked, perching down next to the assailant.

"Not telling." He huffed, flat brown eyes staring up at the strangely colored threesome.

"There are 206 bones in an adults body, would you like to know how it feels to break them one by one?" Ichigo asked, his voice spiked by coldness. It was scary how fast his demeanor could change in an instant.

The assailant simply looked away, staring hard at the pavement. Grimmjow shrugged, looking up at Ichigo.

"Look away, Marsh Head." Ichigo said, his voice not gaining any warmth. It was flat and cold, matching his body language with perfection.

Neliel huffed at the nickname, but turned away from the scene that about to enfold. Grimmjow had been in gangs, he had lived his time in the streets before rising up into the business world. He was no stranger to what would happen next. That didn't mean he liked it though. Still, he held up one of the mans hands for Ichigo to see.

His fingers jetting out in a blur, Ichigo snapped the first knuckle of his pointer finger back. The man groaned, but said nothing. Ichigo repeated the action on the other fingers too knuckles, leaving the tips of his fingers bent back in a sickening picture.

Then, without hesitation, he moved on to the second knuckle. Grimmjow winced as the cracks grew louder and louder, the bones becoming bigger. The mans cries were turning strangled, him moaning as he held his unbroken hand to his mouth.

Then a startling loud crack echoed throughout the alley, a scream escaping from the man. Ichigo had snapped his wrist, having left his hands bones crushed.

"All right, I'll talk!" He begged, cradling the injured appendage to his stomach.

Ichigo paused in his assault, fingers leaving the forearm he had been about to break.

"Aizen sent me, he wanted me to kill the green haired girl. He wants to draw that one guy out, Shirosaki." The man sobbed, rocking softly. "Aizen doesn't like betrayers."

"What do you mean by that?" Grimmjow asked. He knew the man Shirosaki had a connection with the dead Tousen and Aizen, but didn't understand how far the bad went. It made him hesitant to met the man again, much less try as find him.

"He's one of the Puppets, he'll kill us all." The man clenched his teeth, the fear evident on his face.

Meanwhile, Ichigo was pleased. Aizen hadn't recognized the orangette with out his dyed hair and contacts. It seemed the man didn't even know what his men looked like beneath the layers that he put around them. His identity of Kurosaki Ichigo was safe. The only person who knew of him also being Shirosaki was the Marsh Head and against all rationality, he believed she wouldn't tell.

Then the broken man started laughing. Broken peals of laughter mixed with pained sobs racked through his body.

"You're all going to die. He sent Doll Number 326 to kill you. Not even Shirosaki could have killed that monster, he's too huge." He laughed again, before a needle was jabbed into his neck. Grimmjow looked quizzically at Ichigo, who'd stabbed the man with the sharp steel.

"That's all we'll be getting out of him, he is starting to hallucinate and we don't want to worry outsells with potentially wrong information." Ichigo replied coldly. "He'll forget the last ten hours with the drug."

Grimmjow nodded, picking up Neliel who'd curled into a ball during the interrogation session.

"Do you think he was telling the truth about that other Doll?" Grimmjow asked, shuddering at the thought of having one of those creatures breathing against his neck.

"I do not know." Ichigo admitted, a little sheepishness gaining in his features as he fell from the cold attitude. Grimmjow smiled a little at the display. Ichigo was changing from the first time they'd met. He was showing more of the emotions running through him, and he wanted to think he had something to do with that change.

The easy going mood was shattered at that point, they decided to go home directly instead of walking the streets. Neliel retained her sunny mood, but she never seemed to lose it despite the circumstances. Grimmjow was more sullen that his evening with Ichigo had been ruined, and that the orangette had slipped back into his shell for the time being.

Ichigo was warring with his own thoughts at the moment. Was it possible One Eye was going to try and kill them? Was Aizen that desperate to track down his missing Doll?

Doll Number 326 was incredibly strong, his height towering over Ichigo's slim build and even Grimmjow's taller frame. He was a giant, built to the core with thick muscles and covered with scars. Ichigo had never seen him get any kind of wound from the glances he'd seen of the mans training spars.

While Aizen though Ichigo was the elite among them, the orangette wasn't so sure. It was true that he could outwit the man, he could out run him, was faster, and was undefinably more creative in his attacks, but Number 326 was a brute. Poundings of fists didn't faze him, brutal jabs at nerves didn't pierce his thick skin, blood coursing down his flesh didn't daze him. For the most part he was unstoppable. Ichigo wasn't afraid of the beast, but he wasn't eager to try his luck against him.

Lost in his own darker world, he didn't notice the concerned glances Grimmjow sent him as his features darkened minutely.

"We're home." Grimmjow said, causing Ichigo's head to rise. Grimmjow unlocked the door, entering inside.

They stepped onto the wood and froze. Something wasn't right. Colors seemed stale as they looked about the room, the air seemed to hold malicious intent for them as Grimmjow took another step closer into the house. The air was cold, biting at their skin, trying to drag them into the recesses of the apartment. Even Neliel felt the strange mood the home had taken, falling silent and saying behind the men.

Without the lights on, the darkness around them seemed to gnaw out on any speckles of light that graced the room. Not a sound was made, but Grimmjow felt if only he went a little farther he could find out the source of the unrestful atmosphere. Yet, there was cold fear sitting in the room. It oozed from the walls, making Grimmjow shudder. Cold, pure intimidation sat stagnent in the apartment, holding their feet like lead and their hearts as ice. Grimmjow had only felt one thing like this in his life before that moment. The entrance of Shirosaki had matched these feelings.

Grimmjow took another step foreword before Ichigo's hand snapped out, stopping his frontal assault. He pressed a finger to his lips and then drew three knives from various hiding places. He gave Grimmjow the normal one, the blade a thick white color. Ichigo's own were long and thin, the white color glittering in the pale lifeless color of the room.

He took a step forward, his feet soundless against the wood despite the heavy boots he wore.

He moved like a shadow, gliding across the floor rather than walking. His movement almost like a dance, his eyes closed as he felt through the aura of the rooms the apartment bore. Cold waves radiated through out the apartment, centering in on a single point. Ichigo inhaled.

There it was, a human being. He could sense it through the walls separating them. He could hear the floor whispering a groan under the figures feet, the tiny breath of clothing against skin even as the person stood unmoving. The even breathing that practically echoed through out the space. Ichigo heard it all while the rest of the world remained oblivious to the sounds. Ichigo exhaled, letting the feeling escape him.

He signaled for Grimmjow to turn around, holding a finger to his lips. He could only pray the man inside the apartment wouldn't hear the tiny groans of wood as the feet moved. The door was opening slowly, Grimmjow making sure not a single creak escaped the hinges. They could all feel the danger flowing through the floor boards the the constricting air. It was at that moment Grimmjow's phone rang, the ringtone blaring out through the silence. His eyes could only widen before all hell broke loose.

Doll Number 326 had noticed them.


	8. Chapter 8

He was behind them in a second, in a way only Puppets could accomplish. Grimmjow stumbled back a step, shielding Neliel from the view infront of her. He was massive, wrapped in black clothing that hung off his huge frame in huge folds of sleeves. Bells tinkled at the quick movement, the glinting of their metallic chorus echoing from the tips of his long hair. His mask was completely white, despite the black paint that cover the absence of an eye slit. Jagged lines crossed over the mask, ridges instead of paint across the white material. The mask was set in a huge, manic grin, spread father than any normal mouth would reach.

Grasped in one hand was a sword, the edge jagged from the abuse of blood that had ran down the metal. Screams of agony sung through the blade, matching pitch with the cold grin upon the mask and the hulking body the Doll had. Then standing so delicately infront of the monster was fragile, tiny, Ichigo. His tuft of orange locks reached the huge mans mid chest, his twin moonlit blades elegant compared to the butcher of a sword the Doll held.

It was breathtaking, the stand off between the two. Ichigo was frightfully beautiful, his face not flinching as the atmosphere fought between the two. His limbs were elegantly long and thin, flexible and supple compared to the enemies hard, bulging muscles. Ichigo was a tiny elven warrior compared the deadly beast before him. Moonlight slicing off his features, making his milky white skin a silver I. The light. His hair seemed a pale orange, the color of muted sunrises as he stood before the Doll.

He looked delicate and fragile, but he was also terrifying in his own right. The white blades in his hands promised to shed blood, his body had a predators grace. Every sliding movement Ichigo took held a vow of death upon its opposer. He didn't make a single sound, not even a breath stirring the wind in front of him. He was a a glimmer of moonlight, not equal to the humans that stumbled around in clumsiness around him.

All at once the scene before him broke, Doll 326 lunged forward, almost faster than Grimmjow could see. Ichigo skipped back, his feet feather light as they slide across the flooring. It was a dance. A dance of death. Ichigo spun with grace, bending and twisting to avoid the jagged metal that screamed for his blood. His own twin blades slashed in, nicking skin and drawing tiny rivers of blood across any skin the Doll showed.

They were quick, their hands and feet lashing out faster than Grimmjow could see. Doll Number 326's swings took out hunks of walls and smashed the floor boards, his immense strength stifling. Ichigo danced around, over and under each blow. He was graceful, his body twisting in ways Grimmjow didn't think was possible.

Then came the fatal mistake. Ichigo landed softly, his feet barely making a noise on the creaking boards. Tiny spots of the dolls blood had sprinkled the floor around them, the result of Ichigo's quick slashes on his opponents body. 326's sword slashed upwards at him, the metal a dark blur. Ichigo leapt the the side to avoid the cut when his boot slide half a centimeter on a splotch of blood. He lost his balance, falling to the ground and barely glancing the sword away from his chest with his long knife. The force of the blow knocked him back, his head slamming into the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, but he still reacted quickly. Ichigo instantly flipped backwards, coming to his feet in a crouch with his hands raised and blades gleaming in the silvery light. Cold metal was against his skin, jagged rough edges pressed against his throat.

Cold fear rushed through him as he looked up at the man who had him cornered. His back against a wall and a sword to his throat, that was all he could do. Stare at the white of the mask that covered Aizen's puppets face. There was no way from the situation. Doll 326 would have recognized his fighting style instantly, even if he didn't have the trade mark mask covering his features or the brown dyed hair. Ichigo lowered his head, mind racing to find a way to save Grimmjow and Marsh Head from the fate that was befalling him. That was when the sword clattered to the ground.

Ichigo looked up, startled as blood poured to the ground. The crimson liquid splashed against the floor boards, splattering along Ichigo's fair porcelain skin.

He looked up, finding the Puppet falling to his knees. His life's blood poured down his front, painting the floor with his broken soul. Grimmjow stood behind him, his hand sticky with blood and holding the white blade Ichigo had given him.

"Don't leave me out." Grimmjow smirked. Ichigo could have cried in relief, his fighting stance sagging as exhaustion set in.

"Grimmjow." He said weakly, giving the bluenette a tiny grin.

"Lets go, we can't stay here anymore." Grimmjow said, pulling Ichigo to lean on his shoulder. Ichigo nodded, resting his head on Grimmjow's shoulder.

They walked in silence, simply trying to disappear from the horror lying dead in the apartment.

"What're we going to do?" Grimmjow murmured.

"We'll have to go on the run. Leave town, maybe even Japan." Ichigo said bluntly.

Grimmjow nodded in agreement.

"Nel knows Gewmen! Lets go to Gewmany." Neliel said, the first words she's said since the encounter.

"..." Ichigo gave Grimmjow a questioning look.

"We're originally from Germany, so we can speak the language fluently." Grimmjow explained. "Now, Neliel. We don't want to throw Ichigo into some new country where he can't even speak."

"I can speak German." Ichigo said.

"Eh?" Grimmjow said in disbelief. "You can?"

"Yes. I can speak many languages fluently." Ichigo replied.

"Like what, Itsygo?" Neliel asked in wonder.

"Hmmm... English, Chinese, German, a couple of African Languages, Finnish, Arabian, Korean, Japanese, Indian, and also bits and pieces of tribal language from around the world." Ichigo said, listing them off on the hand that wasn't around Grimmjow's shoulder.

Grimmjow shook his head with a laugh. "I shouldn't have doubted it for a second." He said, chuckling. Then he grew serious.

"What should we do? I've never been on the run before." Grimmjow asked, shaking his head.

"First, we'll need temporary dye to alter our appearances. I suggest finding a new wardrobe that isn't the same as your old, I'll arrange us false passports and birth certificates." Ichigo instructed.

"Looks like you've done this before." Grimmjow asked, glancing sideways at the orangette. Ichigo didn't reply, only made a slight grimace.

Grimmjow and Neliel went shopping for hair colors, Ichigo making hotel arrangements with his false ID. They met at the public park nearest to the two locations, entering the disgusting bathroom by it. Luckily, it had running water.

"Do you want black or brown?" Grimmjow asked.

"Black." Ichigo replied instantly, not wanting to wear the color he had worn for most of his life. Plus his false ID picture had black hair.

Grimmjow carefully ran the dye through Ichigo's orange locks, almost reverently covering them with color. The bright, neon orange slowly was taken over by black. Grimmjow was careful not to drip any onto the soft, pale skin of his neck and ears. Ichigo's hair had grown longer in the weeks they'd spent together. It now brushed his shoulders and covered his ears completely. Running his hands through the black colored hair, Grimmjow couldn't help but think the shiny onyx looked sexy on the dyed tangerine. Then again, Grimmjow doubted he'd look bad in anything. He turned Ichigo around, carefully smoothing the dyed gloves on his hands over Ichigo's bright eyebrows.

"Close your eyes, I don't want it to drip in them. Even by accident." Grimmjow commanded. Ichigo complied, letting Grimmjow dye his eyebrows with no hassle.

Grimmjow stared at Ichigo, his face growing minutely red as he looked at the others soft pink lips barely open. Ichigo's eyes were closed, his face in a peaceful expression. Grimmjow couldn't help himself. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Ichigo's. He pulled back instantly, waiting for Ichigo's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Ichigo's eyes fluttered open in surprise, his face flushing a deep red as he stared at Grimmjow with wide eyes. His bright red blushed deepened as he turned his head away.

"M-My turn!" He sputtered, spinning Grimmjow around the sit on the sink while the soon to be changed bluenette chuckled. Ichigo was too adorable for his own good at times.

Grimmjow had bought brown hair dye for himself and Neliel. Ichigo carefully ran the dye through the soft, long blue locks. They looked like strings of cotton candy, it was almost a shame to color them any differently. Ichigo sighed, wondering when he'd be able to see the happy blue color again. He turned Grimmjow around to dye his eye brows.

"Close your eyes." Ichigo said, his blush had dulled to a pink tint. Grimmjow complied. Suddenly, Ichigo felt a devilish smirk over take his face. Finishing with his eye brows, he leaned forward. Then in one swift movement, he bit down on the juncture between Grimmjow's shoulder and neck. Grimmjow jumped with a yelp, looking down at Ichigo's connected teeth with a bemused expression.

"What was that for?" He asked when Ichigo finally let go. There were bite marks along his shoulder, it would probably bruise later considering Ichigo had sucked on the skin.

"Revenge." Ichigo said simply, smiling slightly. Grimmjow chuckled, rubbing the bite mark wistfully. They dyed Neliel's hair a dark red, she sobbed the whole time. She loved her frothy green locks, so when they took some scissors to the locks Neliel was anything but happy. By the time Grimmjow was done, she had shoulder length red hair. Neliel hated it.

"Anything else?" Grimmjow asked. Ichigo held up metal studs.

"Piercings." He said simply.

"I don't think I can pull off piercings..." Grimmjow said, then he paused. "Wait! Where did you get those?"

"I stole them." Grimmjow chose not to reply to that comment.

"What are you going to pierce?" Grimmjow asked, as he saw Ichigo contemplating the metal.

"I'm not sure." Ichigo said. "Maybe, my tongue?" Grimmjow almost had a heart attack. He could imagine that pink tongue running along his dick with that metal stud on it. He could feel himself reacting to the thought.

"Do that, that'd look good on you." Grimmjow grinned, "I'll help you. Open your mouth."

Ichigo complied, handing Grimmjow the stud and sticking out his tongue. Grimmjow grabbed the end lightly, lining up the stud to Ichigo's tongue.

"On three, one. Two. Three." Grimmjow jabbed the barbed metal through Ichigo's tongue, admiring the metal that now stuck there.

Ichigo flicked it against his teeth gently, the metal making soft sounds as it clanged against his teeth.

"I like it." Ichigo said.

"Whoa! So cool Itsygo!" Neliel yelled, forgetting about her tantrum.

"It fits you. Totally bad ass and just as pretty." Grimmjow grinned, his thoughts filled with what that tongue could do. Ichigo blushed at the word pretty, glowing from the compliments around him.

"How're we gonna make sure it doesn't get infected?" Grimmjow asked, suddenly concerned. He didn't want Ichigo to hurt.

"My body's immune system is built up to be higher than the normal persons. It is highly unlikely for me to get sick or have an infection." Ichigo said, he had never been sick since his childhood days. When they'd been immunizing him from all sorts of diseases and poisons.

With that they went to their hotel, Grimmjow drew all his money from a number of ATM's the amount coming to over a million dollars. With the money left from his father's 'investment' and his own savings, they were set for a good while. Once in Germany, they would be able to find new jobs.

They entered the hotel Ichigo had picked out for them, Ichigo usin his fake ID to pay. They had one spacious room, two queen beds. After many arguments, Neliel decided to sleep with Ichigo. Grimmjow stared at the two sleeping faces as the night rose to the sky.

Everything he knew about Ichigo screamed danger. His past was obviously shady, he was too perfect at hiding and fighting for it not to be. Yet, that didn't scare him. His own past wasn't the best, he had ran with gangs, shot people, done things he'd rather forget.

There was one thing that did scare Grimmjow about the porcelain looking figure across from him. He seemed all too used to these fathomed Dolls. From the way he acted at times, to the grace he held and his strength. During the fight with Doll 326, he had been a better fighter even if he had slipped. If everything Grimmjow had heard about the Dolls range true, then they were less than human. Humans felt emotions, but the Dolls didn't. Yet the more Grimmjow saw the effects of the Dolls, the more Ichigo matched them. He matched their skills with ease, the cold atmosphere he could draw in in a single second. Then there was that wild card Doll. Shirosaki. The more Grimmjow thought about it, the more he realized. Shirosaki and Ichigo were exactly the same. From the gait of their steps to the atmosphere of death that surrounded them. That meant that Ichigo was a Doll, a runaway Doll.

Images of the masks ran through Grimmjow's mind. Shirosaki's bone jaws and jagged scratches. The black slashing circle covering one of Doll 325's eye, and the ridges and sardonic smile that was permentaly molded onto his features. Shirosaki gracefully falling from the high widow, his feet silent as they hit the ground. The belief that Tousen had absolute control over the man who'd turned on his Master. The beautiful cold dance Ichigo had spun with his blades drawn against the dead 326.

The more he thought of the so called Dolls, the more he thought the name wasn't fitting. They were more like Puppets. People dragged around by strings until their limbs were scratched and the paint worn away. They couldn't escape, no, Aizen's mind games had ties them to tightly. Yet, somehow Shirosaki had snapped those bonds pulling away from the trails of strings behind him. Only to be dragged back, trying to help his friends. Now the net was growing tighter and tighter, trying to draw his limbs back onto Aizen's stage.

The fear rising in Grimmjow peaked. He honestly didn't care about Shirosaki, even though he owed him their lives. No, all he cared about was how he hoped Ichigo wasn't Shirosaki. He didn't want Ichigo to be in Aizen's view. Yet he was following them to Germany without a second thought. Dropping his job, everything he had in Japan. Not that he had much.

All he wanted was for Ichigo to be safe.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Grimmjow had woken, Ichigo had disappeared. A note was laid on the pillow, stating he was retrieving their passports. An hour later he was back, sporting three passports showing them with their newly dyed hair. Grimmjow didn't know how he'd gotten their pictures of beaming smiles while they slept, but he had. Passports and drivers licenses. He'd even booked them a flight to Berlin. To say Grimmjow and Neliel were impressed was an understatement. Ichigo was completely prepared.

They took a taxi to the airport, Neliel lazily lounging on their laps. Ichigo and Grimmjow had snuck back into the house before they left, getting suitcases and other needed supplies. The body of Doll 326 was gone, along with the blood stains left on the floor. The only memory of his life was the broken floors and walls remaining. Ichigo had pulled skier hats over their faces, telling him not to talk at at. They dashed through the house like crazed bandits, taking anything of worth. Before they got to the airport, Ichigo checked all the items for tracking devices.

He found three hidden among the clothing and jewelry. After triple checking, he deemed the items safe.

They passed the airport with ease, taking their seats on the plane. Neliel was begging for the window seat, dragging Ichigo to sit by here. Grimmjow chuckled as she promptly fell asleep as the plane took off.

"You're a favorite, you know." Grimmjow chuckled.

Ichigo smiled. "It's nice." He petted the red locks of Neliel's.

"I've never seen her like somebody so much." Grimmjow admitted. "It's like she thinks you're a gift from heaven." Ichigo smiled at the comment, thinking of how she thought exactly that.

"Is German a nice place?" Ichigo asked. He doubted it could compare to the beauty of Japan.

"Very. We can buy a country home there. You'll love it." Grimmjow said grinning. Ichigo returned a soft smile to him, nodding. The plane was sky high, Ichigo staring out the window. He leaned his head back on Grimmjow's shoulder, falling into a light sleep.

Grimmjow smiled, brushing a hand through the long hair. Carefully, he moved Ichigo's head so his neck wouldn't cramp. Ichigo mumbled in his sleep, turning towards Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow grinned, enjoying the position. The flight dragged on, the sun setting from above the clouds.

Neliel mostly colored or played with Grimmjow's new phone. Ichigo's didn't have any games on it. Ichigo mostly slept, his eyes fluttering open with any movement that wasn't Grimmjow or loud noises. When somebody dropped their carry on from the over head apartments he practically ripped out from his seat belt.

Grimmjow gave him a strange look as he leapt into a sitting position. Eyes scanned the scene before slumping back against Grimmjow, instantly falling back into his rest. Hours and hours passed before the plane began it's decent. It rumbled against the ground slowing. The exited the airport, Neliel stumbling by exhausted. Grimmjow yawning as he'd barely slept during the long flight, he's been to busy admiring Ichigo's sleeping face and cute mumbles.

Ichigo was as fine as ever. His eyes ever alert, not showing a single sign that he'd been on a straight flight to Germany. He yanked the suitcases into the taxi, ignoring the arm Grimmjow had flung over his shoulder. Grimmjow buried his face at Ichigo's neck, his nose buried in his soft hair.

They drove to the hotel Ichigo, Grimmjow practically asleep on his feet and Neliel thrown over Ichigo's shoulder as she snored. They collapsed on the single queen bed it held, Grimmjow sighing.

Ichigo put away the suitcases after gently lying Neliel on the bed.

Grimmjow watched him as he moved around, his eyes wandering across his body. The natural orangette had gently hips, slim limbs and a round bottom. His features were fine boned, with high cheek bones and bright intelligent eyes. The dyed black locks were glossy as they hung to his shoulders, the color suiting him, though Grimmjow preferred the neon orange. Grimmjow had seen how flexible he was, his body twisting and bendin in ways Grimmjow would have thought impossible. Them there was that milky porcelain skin, white and perfectly smooth. The skin Grimmjow was dying to touch and feel beneath his own tanned body.

"Hey, Ichigo. Do you... Like me?" Grimmjow asked. "In a romantic way." He added knowing Ichigo would probably be lost in his answer with out the clarification.

Ichigo blushed instantly, his feet starting to shuffle. Grimmjow couldn't help but smile at the adorable man infront of him.

"Uh... I'm not sure..." Ichigo said, his eyes glancing up at the cerulean blue eyes. "I-I've never felt like this before, I'm not sure how to tell if this is 'liking' or not." Ichigo admitted, feeling his face flame with the red that he hated.

Grimmjow snagged his wrist, pulling him closer. He watched as Ichigo's face burned brighter as he ran his thumbs across Ichigo's palms.

"Do you feel warm inside when I touch you?" Ichigo nodded hesitantly. "Do you like spending time with me?" Ichigo again let out a tiny nod. "Do you feel... Strongly about me?" Grimmjow tried. Ichigo nodded again. "Then I think you like me." Ichigo looked slightly surprised that Grimmjow had been able to evaluate his feeling so easily when he had struggled over it for so long.

"Do you like me, too?" Ichigo asked, his face hopeful at the thought. Grimmjow smiled, pulling Ichigo closer. He pressed his lips against Ichigo's, his tongue barely peeking out to touch the others lips. Ichigo opened his mouth hesitantly, letting the appendage into his mouth. Grimmjow's tongue tangled with his, his hands slipping into Ichigo's hair and pulling slightly. Ichigo's hands curled against Grimmjow's chest, feeling the heart pounding against the fabric.

Tiny sounds leaked for their connected mouths, breathy sighs and tiny moans. Grimmjow pushed Ichigo down on the bed, their hips pressed together and their chests heart to heart. Grimmjow pulled back, looking at Ichigo's kiss slicked lips. His pink lips open slightly as he panted under Grimmjow.

"I like you." Grimmjow said, caressing the side of Ichigo's face. "I like you a lot." Ichigo blushed, his face flushed.

"Oh... Alright..." Ichigo didn't know what to do. His heart was pounding, his face burning. All while Grimmjow's body pressed against him, his sun kissed face centimeters from him. His blue eyes staring down into Ichigo's brown. He couldn't look away from the cyan eyes searching his. He had never felt this way, his body charged with electricity with every touch. His heart had never pounded so hard before, his chest aching. Was there something wrong with him?

"My heart hurts." Ichigo said suddenly, taking Grimmjow by surprise.

"In a good way?" Grimmjow questioned.

"I think so?" Ichigo replied, completely unsure of everything happening around him.

"Mine too, Ichigo. Mine too." Grimmjow grinned, rolling to the side of Ichigo. "Lets go to sleep. We've had a long day." He said, sighing. His feelings were conflicted. He wanted to run his hands over Ichigo's smooth skin, feel every corner of his body. Hear the moans that were hidden inside him. More than anything, he wanted Ichigo to feel the same. He wanted Ichigo to ache for the feeling of Grimmjow's hands on him, to want Grimmjow as much as he wanted the lithe male. He sighed, pulling closer to the already sleeping male beside him. Neliel was passed out behind his back, dead to the world around her. It was comforting, having all the people he loved around him.

On the other side of Grimmjow, Ichigo was freaking out. Grimmjow pressed closer to him, sighing as he tried to fall asleep. In appearance, Ichigo was boneless on the mattress his breathing calm as he seemed asleep. His heart was pounding. He couldn't quell the feelings rising inside him. His skin was buzzing at the close proximity of Grimmjow's body next to his.

Desire was bubbling inside of him, the feeling so much stronger than he'd ever felt. He wanted to feel Grimmjow's hand running down his chest, over his hips and thighs. How would Grimmjow look at him, would he love the feeling as much as Ichigo? How would Grimmjow look when he was in pleasure. Did he want Ichigo, did he feel the same? Ichigo shivered delicately, the feeling burning through his blood. Ichigo turned suddenly, pressing his face against the pillows. For the first time in his life, his lower half had reacted with out his intention. He felt himself hardening, his face burning at the feeling.

He couldn't deny the feelings rising in him.

He wanted Grimmjow.

* * *

The trio jumped from hotel to hotel while Grimmjow toured possible houses for them to buy. He wanted to surprise Ichigo and Neliel with the final decision. He wanted something that brought out the warmth in Ichigo, made him feel comfortable. Even Grimmjow could see that the lithe male couldn't let his guard down in hotels. He wanted something far away and cozy.

He stumbled upon the house by accident, a flowered garden in the front. It was cottage styled, with vines creeping up the sides and bright flowers hanging from the window. Neliel loved to garden and he knew she would adore the flower beds. It was set on a few large acres of land, the green hills rolling backward until it met the pine trees.

It was gorgeous. The inside clean and roomy while maintaining the cozy warm atmosphere he knew would be perfect for Ichigo. It had a large kitchen and living room, with a fireplace stuck in the middle. It was fully furnished, the furniture price tagged onto the total cost. Upstairs it had two large bed rooms with private bathrooms, the baths practically jacuzzis.

Grimmjow fell in love with the house, he couldn't wait for Ichigo and Neliel to see it.

He bought it in that moment, taking the next few days to shift through the necessary paperwork. He brought there suitcases in, packing their clothes while Neliel had dragged Ichigo with her for a picnic. He wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted Ichigo to feel safe and comfortable inside the walls, completely stress free.

The next day he brought Ichigo and Neliel to see the house, their eyes blind folded as he led them by hand.

"Is it pwetty?" Neliel's lisp became more prominent with the sudden rush of excitement.

"Very." Grimmjow replied, grinning.

"I can't wait!" Neliel screamed, pumping her fist in the air. Ichigo just listened to his surroundings, breathing in the clear air that sparkled around them. Grimmjow stopped them a few feet from the entrance.

"Ready?" A pair of heads nodded, one more excited than the other. Grimmjow ripped off their blindfolds, both their eyes widening in amazement. Ichigo was speechless, staring at the house in wonder. Suddenly, Grimmjow swooped Ichigo off his feet, pulling him into his arms to carry him bridal style. Ichigo yelped, wrapping his hands around Grimmjow's neck instinctively. He carried Ichigo through the doorway, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek after setting him on the ground. Ichigo blushed slightly, looking around the space. Grimmjow was pleased. Ichigo looked excited, even though he didn't necessarily show it on his face. He stayed attached to Grimmjow's hand, pulling him room to room to look at their new house.

That was a good sign, Ichigo was hardly ever interested in anything.

"This is our room, Neliel's too big to share with a guy." Grimmjow said, pointing to the master bed room. He'd put another bed in the room, a bedside table separating them. They could hear Neliel screaming with joy at the toys she had found already set up in the room.

Grimmjow watched Ichigo hesitantly look about the room, peeking into the bathroom and out the big windows.

"Do... Do you like it?" Grimmjow asked after a minute of suspense. Ichigo turned, giving Grimmjow a quick hug before scooting back to look at his face.

Then he grinned. The huge, warm, beaming smile Grimmjow had only ever seen by the light of fireflies. It stretched across every bone in his body, lighting the lithe male up with a fire of passion and pure happiness. The smile that only Grimmjow had ever pulled from him, the smile his eyes had only seen. It was a treasure, greater than anything Grimmjow had posses before. He wouldn't give it up for the world.

"I like it." The simple honest answers Ichigo have, it pulled a matching grin to his face. He hugged Ichigo to his chest, pressing his lips to the inky black locks.

"Good." He tilted Ichigo's chin up, looking into his honey eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. This was his warm little heaven. Ichigo pressed against him, Neliel's voice humming in the background, a warm new life ahead of them. Oh, how he loved this man.

Little did he know, Ichigo was thinking along the same lines.


	10. Chapter 10

Months passed. The time crawled over the rolling hills and between the huge pine trees. It took some time, but Ichigo managed to start sleeping deeply. But only when Grimmjow was sleeping soundly beside him, wrapped in his arms. He smiled more often in the pretty little house, yet only grinned widely when he and Grimmjow were alone. Ichigo's cold demeanor returned whenever they met knew people, or went away from Grimmjow. Grimmjow was the only person he felt completely safe around. He was open around Neliel, but still don't hold the same effect as Grimmjow did.

As the days passed, slowly the dye wore from their hair. Ichigo managed to get them new passports sporting their natural colors. Their false names were only spoken under the sun, not in the confines of their home.

Grimmjow and Ichigo stole kisses in their alone time, never going past the heated kisses and gentle embraces. Grimmjow didn't want to push Ichigo any farther, and Ichigo didn't know how to say he wanted more. A year passed, their kisses getting sweeter and their passion flaming hotter. Yet, Grimmjow never touched Ichigo.

The sky's grew blue and fell to red, clouds flew by and storms came and ended. The days were endless for them. Dream like as they held their lives in their hands. It was free, yet they always looked over their shoulders. Waiting for the sign that'd tell them to run again, disappear into a new land and find a new life.

"Ichigo, do you have time off today?" Grimmjow asked, coming into the kitchen in only his pajama pants. Ichigo blushed lightly at the display of skin. He couldn't keep the thoughts in his head settled at the sight of Grimmjow's sun kissed skin.

"Yeah, you told me to get today off, remember?" Ichigo replied, throwing oil in a pan for bacon.

"Good, I'm bringing you on a date today." Grimmjow grinned. "To celebrate our anniversary of living here."

Ichigo nodded, letting one of his shy smiles turn his lips. He smiled to himself as he hummed. He couldn't wait. Grimmjow always showed him the best things, from busy people pushed onto trains to trees hundred of years old. Grimmjow constantly amazed him, showing parts of the world he couldn't imagine.

Grimmjow got Neliel a babysitter, a teenager girl that had her bag stuffed to the brim with magazines. Neliel was happy with the girl, Lisa, even though she did little more than read the magazines.

"Come on," Grimmjow pulled Ichigo to the door, pushing him in the car they had bought. "Lets go!" Ichigo let out a short laugh, grinning widely for a split second.

They piled into the car, Grimmjow taking the wheel.

They drove for awhile, until Grimmjow lead him into a dense forested area. He knew Ichigo loved the trees and fresh air. They hiked through the thick trees for a few hours, hand in hand. The serene smile etched on his face and he looked at the trees he loved.

"Close your eyes." Grimmjow said, covering his face.

"This is like the fire bugs, those were so pretty." Ichigo said, smiling.

"Not quite as good, but still up there." Grimmjow chuckled.

He lifted his hands from Ichigo's face.

"Open." Ichigo's eyes widened. He looked at the display infront of him, his mouth falling open.

"How do you do these things?" Ichigo asked in awe. Under the shade of the high pine trees was a fully set table. A rich red table cloth covered the long table, contrasting with the deep green around them. Sliver cutlery laid on the table, fine goblets raised their heads above the several forks and spoons that laid on the silk. A full turkey was centered in the middle of the swathes of red, steamy potatoes, green beans, rolls, jam and so much more food danced around the delicious center piece.

Steam rose into the air in delicate tendrils, rising to the deep green pines. Reaching pines branches embraced the table in a hold of safety.

"I like it." Ichigo said, amazed at the display before him. Grimmjow smiled, taking Ichigo's hand to guide him to his chair.

"I thought you would," He replied. They sat at the table for hours, eating at the feast infront of them and talking. Somewhere near the end, Ichigo ended up on Grimmjow's lap. Grimmjow nuzzling against his neck and neon orange hair, the sun starting to fall around them. The forest fell darker and darker around them as they held each other under the trees high branches.

"I have one more thing to show you tonight." Grimmjow said, pulling Ichigo from the table and the green of leaves. They left the shadowed beauty of the forest just as the sun was dipping below the high mountains. The air cooling against their skin slightly.

They drove back into the nearest city, the streets uncrowded in the coming night. Grimmjow lead Ichigo to a empty plaza, the area empty as the sun fell.

"Wait a few minutes." Grimmjow said, wrapping his arms around the orangette's slim sides, feeling him melt into the warm embrace behind him. "Wait for it." Grimmjow whispered.

"For what?" Ichigo whispered back, shivering of the feel of lips against his ears. Grimmjow pressed a single finger against Ichigo's soft lips, feeling a desire to press his own against them.

That's when it started, thick jets of water burst into the air. Transparent colors mixed in with the flying water, filling the sky with red, blues and greens. The water fell into arcs of color, bursting explosions of water.

Ichigo laughed in wonder at the display of designs around him. Grimmjow grinned, Ichigo rarely gave the privilege of hearing the ringing bells of his laughter. The sound pulling at his heart and filling him with want. Grimmjow took one of Ichigo's hands, reaching it toward the rising water infront of them. It sparkled out in an explosion as their hands broke through the colorful jets. Diamonds fell to the ground, glittering against the black pavement.

Then Grimmjow was pulling him, pulling him under arcs of water and around the tossed water. Ichigo laughed again, letting his hands split the arcs around him. Grimmjow laughed with him, pulling him to him in a kiss. Hands weaved into the blue hair, pulling lightly at the strands as Grimmjow held Ichigo tightly to him. The arcs of water drew nearer to the center, drawing towards Ichigo and Grimmjow as they stood unaware. Fiery passion leapt between their entwined bodies, sparks of excitement, lust and love jolting between them.

Ichigo's hands grasped at hair and clothing as he knees grew weak. Grimmjow held him close, a hand around his lower back and the other caressing his hair and face. Then the water fell down on the both of them, spilling over their heads in a rainbow of explosion. Laughter broke out between them, pure joy written across their faces as they held each other under the crashing water.

"We got all wet," Ichigo said, barely getting it out between breaths of laughter. Grimmjow grinned back, loving the open smiles Ichigo was sharing and the fresh laughter.

"We sure did," he nuzzled against Ichigo's wet locks. They laughed, embracing as fountains of water sprayed into the starry night. "Do you want to go home or find a hotel to stay at for the night?" Grimmjow asked. The fountain was slowly shutting down as the night grew older.

"Lets go to hotel, I don't want to drive all the way home." Ichigo said. Grimmjow nodded, taking Ichigo's hand as they walked to the car.

It wasn't a long drive to the nearest hotel, just a few minutes of shivering in the car. They entered into the single room they'd gotten, Ichigo instantly shedding his sopping clothing to the ground. Grimmjow couldn't help but watch the wet clothing fall to the ground. Milky pale skin slithered into view, the fair skin unflawed despite the fights that Ichigo had raged. Perk pink nipples stood from the cold, raised into the air and harden. Pants and boxers slid over hips, dragging down his thighs and off his feet.

Grimmjow's mouth water as he looked at the perfect body before him, glistening from the water and dimmed hotel lights. Ichigo glanced at him, his cheeks tainted pink. He tried to slyly cover his member from Grimmjow's looks, but he caught on. There he saw his prize, Ichigo was half hard.

"Do you mind if I shower with you?" Grimmjow asked, bringing his own shirt over his head. Ichigo stared at the wide tanned chest, golden skin glimmering over hard muscles.

"Nope, not at all." Ichigo replied, mesmerized by the tan skin being revealed in slow steady movements. Jeans slipped down tan legs, dragging their boxers with them and Ichigo went bright red. Grimmjow proudly showed his half hard dick to Ichigo, the member hardening at Ichigo shy glances.

Grimmjow kissed his cheek, taking a hand to bring him to the large bathroom. A hand snuck around his slim waist, bringing their hips together. Ichigo's face seemed to be a permanent bright red, yet he still seemed eager. Grimmjow took both as a good sign for a go ahead. Maybe it was finally for the next step in their sex life... Or in their case, starting their sex life.

"Bath or shower?" Grimmjow asked, looking at the large jacuzzi bath. It definitely seemed appealing. Apparently Ichigo thought so too with his reply.

"Bath," he said, pulling Grimmjow to it. Grimmjow grinned, letting his hand slide down Ichigo side as he turned on the water to fill the large tub.

He stood straight again, Ichigo nuzzling his chest lovingly. Grimmjow grinned, he had seen this many times. It was Ichigo little way of begging for a kiss, he was too shy to ask out loud. Grimmjow thought it was absolutely adorable, his heart thudding.

He lifted Ichigo's chin to him, a tiny shy smile on Ichigo face. He pressed their lips together, Ichigo always felt so perfect against him. And with all the skin showing, sparks jolted throughout his whole body bringing his half hard dick straight to life. Ichigo moaned into his mouth, Grimmjow came back for a second. Looking at Ichigo passionately lit eyes, desire begging through those amber orbs. He glanced down at Ichigo body, grinning as he saw Ichigo erect cock next to his. He lined kisses down his jaw, nibbling on Ichigo's ears. His tongue jetted out, pressing against the soft milky skin. Small gasps and tiny moans escaped Ichigo mouth as Grimmjow worked over his neck. Their members brushed against each other, both gasping at the feeling raging through their skin. Ichigo grabbed onto Grimmjow's shoulders, in a desperate attempt to keep his legs steady as Grimmjow pulled their hips together.

Sensitive members rubbed against each other as Grimmjow sucked against Ichigo's neck. Hands pulled against the orange hair, pulling gently on the locks.

Ichigo moaned, his eyes half lidded as his body filled with the feeling of Grimmjow's dock against his own and his mouth sucking against the sensitive skin on his neck. His skin tingled, silently begging for Grimmjow's hands to travel over his soft and supple skin.

Somehow, Grimmjow seemed to hear the silent request of lust as his hands moved down from Ichigo's hair, dragging down his back.

Ichigo moaned at the hands pressing to his back, pressing them closer. His nipples brushed against Grimmjow's chest, Ichigo biting against his lip at the feeling. Every touch that Grimmjow stole, felt good, but something about his hardened nipples rubbing against Grimmjow chest felt agonizingly good. It made him hold back a threatening loud moan that threatened to break free. Their cocks jostled together again, Ichigo breathing a moan before biting down on his lips again. Grimmjow's hands slide lower, cupping against his ass.

Ichigo moaned, covering his mouth with a hand trying to cover the sound. Then he was being lifted up, a strong hand cupping his ass the other supporting his back from falling. Ichigo yelped in shock, instantly wrapping his legs and arms around Grimmjow in shock. Grimmjow grinned, stepping into the full tub.

Ichigo's arousal rubbed against Grimmjow's abs, the orangette stuffing his face into Grimmjow's neck to muffle his low moans. Grimmjow gently sat down in the tub, running his hands up and down Ichigo's body.

He took a shaky breath as he looked at Ichigo's body before him. A slight sheen of sweat covered his forehead, damping the hair barely. Lust glazed eyes glanced at his own in fleeting glances, brown orbs half masted and misty.

Ichigo's body was suspended over his own, his arms over Grimmjow's shoulder and his legs to either side of his body.

He was leaning over Grimmjow's body as they half laid in the warm water. The orangette's cock was brushing against Grimmjow's hard stomach as Ichigo trembled slightly, the feeling drawing little gasps and moans from his worrying mouth. Teeth but against his bottom lip, trying to keep in the sounds of passion that threatened to leap out.

Grimmjow's own cock rubbed against the tight cleft of Ichigo's smooth ass, his own hips gently rubbing against the skin in small thrusts. His porcelain skin was so soft and smooth, especially the smooth orbs of his perfectly right ass. Even just rubbing against the skin there was better than anything he'd ever felt.

Ichigo gasped when Grimmjow reached back, pulling the two smoothed cheeks apart. Rubbing the side of his member against Ichigo's entrance and ass cheeks. Ichigo moaned falling against Grimmjow's chest in defeat. He pressed his mouth against Grimmjow's chest with open mouthed kissed, sucking gently on the hard span of chest.

Grimmjow moved Ichigo's hands to his own ass, moving them to take his large hand's place spreading the cheeks. Ichigo complied, rubbing back against the hard member behind him.

"You're so beautiful," Grimmjow breathed in breathy moan. Staring at Ichigo's face, pinched with pleasure and barely keeping loud moans at bay. His pink tinted skin spreading from the tips of ears to neck. Grimmjow slid a hand between their bodies, pinching one perk nipple as their lips connected.

"Grimm..." Ichigo moaned against his lips, eyes pinched closed as he began losing the war of silence against the sounds raging to escape him.

Suddenly Grimmjow stood. One word was all that was needed.

"Bed." He pulled Ichigo from the tub, leaving the warm water to cool. Hands flew across the porcelain skin, rubbing pink nipples and flying across smooth spans of Ichigo's back and sides. Ichigo groaned, loving the feel of Grimmjow's work weathered hands against his skin.

They fell on soft sheets, a deep blue color. The color next to Ichigo's skin was enchanting, bringing out the glimmering color to his face and milky skin. Grimmjow's heart thudded as he looked down at Ichigo, lust pounding through him in a wave of unbreakable desire.

Ichigo wasn't any different. Lust glazed eyes looked at the man above him, his tan skin glossed from the water. Hard muscles flexing with every movement. The dimmed lights shimmering behind his back, giving a halo effect to his body. Ichigo's eyes traveled lower, looking over his hard abs and down to his steel length. The thick, long cock swelled with Grimmjow's desire, Ichigo's mouth watered at the sight.

In a quick movement, Ichigo switched the positions. He pushed Grimmjow onto his back, a quick look of surprise flashing across his face. Ichigo leaned over him, a shy smile across his face that contrasted to his bold actions.

"W-What?" Grimmjow asked, suddenly worried he had done something the orangette hadn't liked.

"Nothing, I just wanted to suck your cock." Ichigo said, breathless as he looked down at the saluting member. Precum streamed down the side at that comment, Grimmjow's dick growing noticeable bigger. Ichigo didn't wait a second. He slithered down Grimmjow's body, coming face to face with Grimmjow's impressive size.

"It's so big," Ichigo murmured, dragging a finger up the side as he stared down the organ.

Grimmjow moaned, if he wasn't already hard as steel, he would have been by now. Ichigo's blunt honest tongue was too much for his cock to handle, he tried hard not to cum right then and there. The only reason he held back was he'd rather not cum all over Ichigo's face on their first attempt of making love.

Ichigo stared at the cock infront of him, mesmerized. It was huge. Cum dribbled down the side, he wanted to lick it off like an ice cream. Slowly, he brought his mouth down over the Grimmjow's tip, sliding his tongue against the cock head. Precum burst into flavor on his tongue, it was a strangely addicting taste. Ichigo wanted more of Grimmjow's substance, he wanted it down his throat and in his belly.

Grimmjow groaned at the feeling of Ichigo devouring his cock head. The orangette was sucking the his head like a straw, as if eager for more of the hot cum that was soon to come if this carried on. Ichigo pressed kisses down the veined side. Dragging his tongue and barely skimming the delicate skin with his teeth as he pressed open mouthed kisses to the hot skin. Grimmjow weaved hands through Ichigo's wild orange hair, pulling gently on the locks in an attempt to stay grounded against the rising feeling of bliss in his cock.

Ichigo cupped a ball with his hand, sucking lightly on the skin before opening his mouth wide and sliding it inside. He sucked on the Grimmjow's sac, eliciting a groan from the bluenette. The ball popped out of his mouth as he began giving Grimmjow's second the same attention. Wet suckling sounds seemed to echo in Grimmjow's ears as Ichigo fondled and suck on his balls. Then his lips dragged upwards again, his tongue sliding up to the head of the cock to dance against his slit. Breathy moans and harsh groans came from Grimmjow's mouth as Ichigo practically worshiped his cock with his beautiful talented lips.

Lips sealed over the head, tongue dancing against the hot skin. Ichigo slid his mouth down lower on Grimmjow's enormously huge cock. Grimmjow knew he was gifted in the lower department, yet that didn't faze Ichigo as he slid lower.

And lower.

Still lower.

Even lower.

Grimmjow gasped, the orangette's whole mouth enveloped his pulsing cock. Ichigo nose buried in his sky blue pubic hair. He didn't even need to use his hands, the white hot feel of Ichigo's throat was enough to send Grimmjow into a moaning frenzy. Then that damned tongue came into play.

It whisper around the base of Grimmjow's cocks, the hard metal tickling against his skin. He groaned, massaging his hands across Ichigo's scalp. Then that tongue came past pink lips, reaching down to touch against the very top of his balls. Grimmjow choked on air, biting his own tongue to keep from cumming at the single act. Ichigo was one sinful sex demon he decided. From the pierced tongue, to how far it reached and then finally to the fact he had no gag reflex.

Grimmjow pulled Ichigo from his cock, instantly pressing their lips and tongues together in a dance of passion.

Ichigo was in a daze. Grimmjow's cock had tasted so good, he'd wanted that hot cum to spill down his throat. Every sound Grimmjow had made above him had driven his own appendage to grow harder and harder. His dick was very nearly turning purple as he fought off the desire to cum every time the tip brushed against Grimmjow's stomach as he ravaged Ichigo's mouth. The taste of precum on his tongue, Grimmjow against his lips and the painful hardness of his cock all added together into a concoction of pure bliss. Ichigo couldn't even think, couldn't breath, couldn't have said a word to save his life at that moment. Nothing could have been better than this feeling, nothing at all.

Oh how wrong he had been.

Grimmjow flipped them, pressing Ichigo back into the dark colored sheets. Ichigo was panting and moaning against his mouth, the sweet sounds a symphony of pleasure to Grimmjow's ears. He had to have the orangette. Every muscle in his body was centered to catering to the lithe body beneath him. The beautiful creature that he knew as Ichigo.

Porcelain skin writhed beneath him, hands flying across Grimmjow's skin. Ichigo's eyes were glazed, shining with bliss, love and pleasure. Grimmjow wished he could see the expression everyday, the image burning deeply into his mind.

"G-Grimmjow..." Ichigo moaned, his body twisting upward to met against Grimmjow's. The last self control Grimmjow had disappeared. He had to have the orangette. Had to make him all his own.

Grimmjow reached over Ichigo's body, grasping at the lube nestled into the bag on the bed side table. Grimmjow never left the house without lube, incase Ichigo suddenly had the desire to have sex. Now he was glad for his wanton thoughts that had led to the habit.

Ichigo moaned beneath him as he rubbed the tip of a finger to the pink flower nestled in the orangette's ass. Grimmjow's breathing was heavy, he could barely look at Ichigo without cumming at this point. Both their erections were purple with want, both moaned at the slightest contact. Grimmjow poured lube across his fingers, dragging the long slicked digits across Ichigo's entrance. Ichigo whimpered, raising his hips to try and receive more of the delicious contact. Grimmjow wasn't one to deny, he pushed a finger past the tight ring of muscle and into Ichigo.

Ichigo moaned, shutting his eyes tightly against the feeling. Ichigo couldn't understand why Grimmjow felt so good. He'd had sex with men before, both topping and bottoming, yet he had never moaned like this. Fire had never filled his body with the other men's touches.

Grimmjow was so different. Hands spread jolts throughout the orangette's body, eliciting heavy moans from his kiss swollen lips.

Then one of those long fingers had pushed inside him. Ichigo couldn't describe the feeling. The slightest move the finger made sent excruciating volts of pleasure through Ichigo. Then another digit had slipped past his entrance. And another. Ichigo cried at the feeling, tears poured down his face as pleasure possessed his body. Ichigo had never cried in his life, but tears flowed as Grimmjow grasped his soul and body when their heated skin touched. He wouldn't give up this feeling for the entire world.

Beautiful. That was the only word that could justice the sight before Grimmjow. Not even those letters could fully capture the essence of aweing beauty that made Grimmjow's body pulse with heat and his heart stumble. Tears flowed from Ichigo's glazed over eyes. Sparkling, tiny orbs of crystal flashing against the pink of his cheeks. It was the most beautiful thing Grimmjow's had ever seen, the moans that chorused with his only adding to the sensation.

He couldn't take it any more, Grimmjow leaned forward pressing his lips to the wet cheeks. All while he slid his length into Ichigo's tight heat. Ichigo's mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure, his eyes closing as tears splashed against his orange lashes.

Grimmjow moaned, pressing love nips against Ichigo's neck and collar bone. Ichigo was so tight, the heat surround Grimmjow nearly blinded him with absolute pleasure.

"Ichi-Ichigo..." Grimmjow groaned, sucking on the pale skin of Ichigo's chest. He could feel Ichigo relaxing slightly around him, his hips beginning to sway gently against Grimmjow's cock.

"Grimm.." The rest of his name became a low drawn out moan as Grimmjow thrusted gently into him.

Grimmjow panted, his heart swelling as arms wrapped around his neck. Hips swayed into him, pressing him deeper into Ichigo's tight ass.

They chorused their moans as tongues fumbled to groan out the others name. Grimmjow gradually let his hips thrust forward faster, their voices rising as the movement quickened.

"Harder... Nngh..." Ichigo moaned, pulling Grimmjow for a searing kiss. Grimmjow groaned, pounding faster into Ichigo's lithe body. Ichigo moaned, clutching at Grimmjow's arms as his cock slammed directly into his prostrate.

"Grimmjow!" He cried. Grimmjow reached between their bodies, pumping Ichigo's cock against the timing of his thrusts.

"Ichigo..." He moaned, sensing the completion they desired stalking closer.

Suddenly Ichigo spasmed, writhing into Grimmjow as he screamed out in mind blowing pleasure.

"Grimm!" He screamed, arcs of hot cum spraying across his and Grimmjow's body.

Grimmjow moaned, Ichigo's insides twisting around him in a cocktail of pleasure. He tightened around Grimmjow's pulsing cock as he came, the sensation driving Grimmjow over the edge with him.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow groaned, spilling his essence deep into Ichigo's ass. Wave after wave of pleasure soared through the two as they rode out the sea of the shared orgasm. Then Grimmjow slumped against Ichigo, rolling off his body to hold him close.

They panted, muscles trembling with exhaustion.

"I love you, Ichigo." Grimmjow murmured, nuzzling against Ichigo's ear. Ichigo blushed, too tired to respond with anything more than the color raising on his skin. He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know what to do next.

Grimmjow chuckled, knowing his predicament.

"You don't have to say it back, just thought you should know." Grimmjow chuckled softly, resting his forehead against Ichigo's. Ichigo nodded softly before they both fell into a light doze, both sleeping soundly in the night. Pleasent peace surround them as the night embraced them into its depths.


	11. Chapter 11

Sun shined in through the gaps of their blinds, the occupants slowly rising from their sleep. Ichigo always had a liking for the rising sun. It always promised something new, new experiences to share with Grimmjow. He stretched, his lower back and ass an ache he chose not to acknowledge. Pain always became more prominent when you acknowledged it. Ichigo had learned that over and over.

He sighed softly, letting his body relax back into the navy colored sheets.

Grimmjow's arms tightened around him, his face nuzzling closer into Ichigo's neck.

"How's your body?" He murmured, pressing light kisses to Ichigo's marked neck.

"Good. You have a big dick." Ichigo mumbled. Grimmjow laughed, kissing Ichigo's cheek as he rose into a stretch.

"What can I say? I'm blessed." He grinned. Ichigo returned the gestured with one of his own shy smiles.

"Shower?" Grimmjow suggested, pointing to the dried cum covering both their bodies. Ichigo stood, nodding as he went to the huge bathroom. Grimmjow smirked as he saw a trail of cum slipping down Ichigo's milky thighs.

They showered, sharing gently touches and kisses under the crying spout. Then they reclothed and closed the hotel door behind them. The hotel was quiet, Grimmjow slipping his hand into Ichigo's as they walked. Until Ichigo ripped hand his away from Grimmjow's.

"Something's wrong." Grimmjow looked at Ichigo confused. Had he done something to upset the orangette in the short time they'd been awake? He didn't think so.

"What is it?" Grimmjow asked, slightly panicked at the thought of having a fight after their first night of making love.

"It smells of blood." Ichigo said, the guarding mask he hid his emotions behind instantly rising.

Grimmjow sniffed the air, trying to catch of the phantom scent.

"I don't sme..." He trailed off as his eyes fell onto a thick line of blood that had been dragged down the carpeted hall. They instantly followed it, no hesitation in their steps.

More lines came, converging together into a twisting serpent of death. They appeared from under doors, dripped down walls. Bile rose into Grimmjow's throat as they followed the increasingly thick line of blood, it led them down cement stairs. They finally came to the hotel lobby, Grimmjow's shoes slapping lightly on the tiled floor.

Ichigo froze, his feet glued in a circle of dried blood. The circle exposed outwards, thin lines caressing the cold floor. Intricate designs flowed over the surface, climbing over chairs and desks, arcing against walls. The all centered to one place, to one man standing lone in the hotel lobby.

Wavy brown hair, pushed back. Sardonic smirk that drew every ounce of aggression Grimmjow had.

"Who're you?" He snarled, a hand reaching out to touch Ichigo's frozen back. He didn't like this, not one bit. Ichigo wasn't moving, he wasn't talking. His body had instantly stiffened at the sight of the man before them.

Grimmjow didn't like this at all.

"Hello, _Shirosaki_."

Ichigo couldn't move, his muscles wouldn't move. Everything of his past life was crashing down on him. He couldn't move until Aizen said he could. He couldn't talk unless asked a question. Doll Number 015. Doll Number 015. That's what he was, how could he ever have been more? There was no Ichigo Kurosaki, there was no Shirosaki. Only Doll Number 015 as he stared into Aizen's eyes.

Ichigo didn't feel the hand pressed to his back, hear his voice snarling out to Ichigo's boss.

What was happening? Two sides were pulling at him. Yet, only one was rapidly winning. String pulled at Ichigo's mind, driving his emotions away, throwing everything he'd built to the blood beneath his feet at the sound of Aizen's mocking voice.

Why was Aizen calling him Shirosaki? He was Number 015, his Master knew that. Ichigo couldn't think straight. That was what years and years of training told him, Aizen's eyes demanded he bow down, he required submission from the Doll beneath him. And Ichigo crumpled, he adverted his eyes from Aizen's, looking to the floor.

He couldn't fight against Aizen. This was the man that had beaten him to the ground, pounding his fists into Ichigo's soft skin. He had taught everything him he knew, and he had also tore down everything Ichigo was. And he was doing it again, pressing him flat to the ground with a single glance. Reminding Ichigo why he was a Doll and why Aizen was a Master.

"Don't worry about it, Number 015." Aizen said, smirking as he saw the absolute submission of the Doll.

"Every Doll experiences this, the feelings will go away soon. I'll make sure you never feel any emotion again. Would you like that?" Aizen spoke as if he was admiring a pet, offering a sweet treat in the palm of his hand.

"Emotions are too hard for people like you, all you can do is follow my orders. Don't do something like this again, Number 015." Aizen said, grinning. "Now, I order you to kill every person you've came into contact with. That includes Grimmjow and his sweet little sister."

Grimmjow snarled, "Who do you think you are? He isn't your puppet to play with!"

"Number 015, report to the German branch by midnight tomorrow." Then he was gone, his foot steps not making a sound. "Ichigo, don't you dare listen to-" Grimmjow stopped abruptly as he saw Ichigo.

Ichigo had crumpled to the floor, his palms spread against the blood soaked tile. His eyes were wide, lifeless as they stared straight ahead in shock. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. Ichigo almost cried for the second time in his life, but the tears wouldn't come. He wanted to scream, curse at the world for throwing his life into disarray. He couldn't do. No words escaped his lips, no sound came from his throat.

Cold chills surrounded him, sucking the heat from his limbs as he choked on the stifling air around him. It was constricting him, the air choking the life from his lungs. The cold piercing every centimeter of his skin. Demons seemed to laugh around him, sardonic faces mocking him as death settled on his hands. They were red, crimson red. He lifted them seeing the blood stained against his paled flesh. He was trembling, not even realizing the harsh choking sounds that slipped through his throat.

Grimmjow fell to his knees, the blood coating the ground soaking through the fabric.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay." He murmured, petting his hand over Ichigo's neon locks as he pulled Ichigo to his chest. Minutes passed, the seconds dragging by like hours. Finally, Ichigo drew his arms around Grimmjow in reply. He buried his face into Grimmjow's shoulder, his body shaking but no tears flowing.

They stayed there for a long time, the blood beneath them drying and the sun rising high into the sky.

No words were said as they both simultaneously stood, Ichigo's back straight and his head high again. They drove home, the silence charged with electricity between them.

To say Grimmjow was scared would be an understatement. He was terrified, his hands shook as he drove. All his fears had been confirmed. Ichigo was their protecter, Shirosaki. And the assassin Doll Number 015. Grimmjow didn't want to lose the orangette. He'd do anything to save Ichgio from the fate descending on him. Ichigo was meant to feel emotion, was made for passion and fire. Grimmjow could see it in him, even if nobody else could.

"We'll run away again. So far he'll never reach us, don't worry Ichigo. We'll be fine, we can get away from him." Grimmjow said, suddenly.

Ichigo could only nod. Dread had settled into his every limb, dragging down his stomach. They picked up Marsh Head, she fell silent as she took in the tense mood surrounding the two men. Not a word was said between the three.

They pulled into their drive way. Grouping silently into the house.

Grimmjow knew they couldn't do anything. He could only try to fight his way into Ichigo's mind not to give up against Aizen. He could only pray Ichigo wouldn't go to Aizen, wouldn't walk straight into his embrace again. He hated seein Ichigo fight the war inside him, tiny flickers of emotions flitting across his face. He couldn't lose Ichigo, he loved him too much.

The bright hair, his shy smiles, the rare wide grins. The smooth silk of his skin, the brown whiskey eyes that could shine with so much warmth as he looked at the bluenette. The slim curves of his sides, the flexible limbs and strong muscles. The child like awe he constantly showed to the world. The strange opinions that differed so much from societies answers. Everything about Ichigo was perfectly unique and utterly beautiful. Grimmjow was entrance with the very sight of him, he couldn't let that go. He didn't know if life would hold the same meaning Ichigo had brought if the man disappeared. He was desperate for the Ichigo's presence, Grimmjow could no longer cope without it.

Grimmjow shuddered, thinking of the time his own gun had been ripping through bodies. He didn't want Ichigo to experience what he had, not again. Grimmjow ground his jaw as the memories resurfaced with a vengeance.

_It had been high school. They had just moved to Japan when the most unexpected had happened. Neliel and His parents had both died, crushed to the pavement by a semi. They had been heart broken, Neliel had been extremely close with their parents even at such a young age. She had been only one, but had talked in full sentences and was extremely smart. Grimmjow was older, 17 and just graduating from high school. Their family had fallen apart after that. _

_Grimmjow had broken when they tried to take Neliel to a foster home to find new parents for her. They tried to separate them, claiming it was better for the pair. Grimmjow didn't believe that shit, he couldn't. Neliel was all he had left. _

_He had ran, taking nothing more than the money they had and the clothes on their back. They had nothing. Nothing to remember their parents with, nothing to live in and no friends to depend on. Grimmjow could hardly even speak the language. That's when the demon arose from hell to buy their souls. _

_Gin Ichimaru. _

_He was handed a gun and told to shoot. And he did, he didn't ask questions, he didn't think about what he was doing. There was only rush of power, the twitch of a trigger. _

_Running through the streets, shooting from behind cars and around alley corners. It was addicting, thrilling. Him and Neliel had food in their stomachs, a roof over there head. He was beginning to save money for Neliel to go to collage. Life was good, the had money, had support. _

_Then it all shattered, leaving Grimmjow broken. It had started as a simple break in, him and Nnoitra had been told to take everything a family had. They did, the wife was pleading. Begging for them to leave anything. _

_That's when Gin came in, sneering down at the begging wife and the bowing husband. Grimmjow couldn't remember what Gin had said to them, he could only remember the verdict. _

_"Kill them both." _

_His blood had run cold. Tears stained their faces as they begged for the last thing they had. Their lives that Grimmjow held in his palm. A shot rang out, Nnoitra holding the fun that splattered the husbands brains to the ground. He looked stunned, like he hadn't even known what he had just done. Shell shocked. _

_The dead man's wife was going into shock, her pupils dilated and her body shaking as she stared at the blood strewn across the floor. Grimmjow's gun was raised, it was strange. He couldn't feel his arms, couldn't control the muscles that were slowly tightening around the trigger. All he could hear was Gin's voice ringing out in three words. _

_"Kill them both."_

_He did. And he broke. Grimmjow would never forget the moment he killed the defenseless woman, her blood leaking from the hole in her forehead as she slumped to the ground next to her husband. He had fled, running out into the stormy dusk the day had turned into. _

_Pavement slapped under his feet as the clouds rolled in rage above him. _

_Tears were rolling down his face, his stomach turning. Grimmjow managed to run to the bridge of a river before he puked. Spilling his stomach into the boiling water beneath him. _

_That's when the sky had broken into tears. Tears for the dead lovers, tears to scorn Grimmjow's stupidity his every fault. It pour down on him, seeming to burn his skin with every drop. Beneath the sobbing sky and the hard ground, only one image broke into Grimmjow's mind. The image of crimson streaked across floors, across cooling flesh. _

_Grimmjow sobbed with the sky, letting his tears feed the river further. _

_After that long night, Grimmjow had a high fever for three days. Once his illness ended, he left the gang. Beaten and broken from the fist of his previous comrades, he struggled to make something new for himself. He worked as a translator for big companies, working hard to build himself up. _

_After months and months, he got a surprise one day. Nnoitra broken and bruised at his front door, smiling gently. _

_"I left. I left, Grimmjow." He said softly, Neliel's arms wrapping around his long legs. They worked together, Nnoitra growing fond if Neliel and becoming close to Grimmjow. They never looked back to the cold metal and the devil of Gin Ichimaru. _

Grimmjow sighed, looking over at Ichigo. The orangette was still silent, the sun drawing over the sky to the high horizon.

"Lets go to bed." Grimmjow knew he wouldn't be able to sleep during the night. He wouldn't be able to stand Ichigo disappearing during the night.

Ichigo nodded, letting himself be drawn into Grimmjow's strong arms shivering slightly.

Ichigo trembled in Grimmjow's arms. This would be last night he'd feel their warmth, the last they'd encircled him with Grimmjow's soft lips pressed to his hair. Ichigo didn't know how much he had loved the feel of Grimmjow's arms until he'd have to leave him. What could he do? Kill the bluenette and Marsh Head, run back to Aizen? No, he could only beg for their lives, beg for forgiveness. Ichigo felt a tear pass his tightly shut eyes. He buried his face closer to Grimmjow so he wouldn't notice the plain emotion on his face. He didn't want Grimmjow to know this weak side of him.

Hours passed, the stars burning brighter as they twinkled in the onyx sky. The blue numbers twitched upwards, glowing closer and closer to the fated twelve. The night silent, the bed warm, Ichigo rose from the protecting arms. His feet silent against the wooden floor. His skin white against the shade of night and his hair a shadow of the bright color it was usually was. He slide out from the door, leaving into the cold world beyond the small safety they had. The only thing Ichigo missed, was Grimmjow's eyes flickering open. Blue orbs pierced the darkness as they followed Ichigo.

In the sheath of night, two presences disappeared from the comforts of home.


	12. Chapter 12

The night was lazy, not many people on the streets. Cars blew by, stirring wind across the ground. Darkness enfolded Ichigo as he walked, eating away at his limbs as they covered him. The old black hoodie had been reclaimed, his pockets heavy with bleached white weapons. It was too much.

The weight pressed him down, dragging his each step to the cold ground. Every step threw him further and further into the pit. Burying him deep into the soil beneath his feet. Corpses piled high behind him, the sea of blood pushing him closer and closer to the man that had ordered it all. His Master.

Puffs of warm breath breached the air in front of him, clouds of warmth shrinking away in the cool night. Ichigo shivered slightly, the weight in his pockets, the night attacking down on him, the cold claws that grasped him, it was all too much. Burning filled his heart, all he wanted was a warm hand in his. Those sparkling blue eyes shining down on him in a heart racing grin. He already missed Grimmjow.

Ichigo sighed. Would he really be able to let go of his emotions again, lose himself in the torrent of blood and death. He hoped so, Ichigo already couldn't stand the thought of not having Grimmjow by his side. He wouldn't be able to live with this rise of pain inside him, it hurt far too much. He didn't want to feel like this, he wanted the warmth that Grimmjow brought. Not this. Not this feeling of cruelty and death.

Before he knew it Ichigo was standing before tall doors, horribly stark white against the back drop of darkness. His hand slid between the fabric pulling on the object hidden underneath. His white primal mask, blood seeping through the bone in jagged marks. He pressed it to his face, tying the crimson knot behind his head.

Inhaling deeply, Ichigo Kurosaki stepped inside of the whitewashed building, his feet taking him where he knew Aizen would be. White halls, no detail on the walls, no windows, not paintings. Just the white ceilings, the white tiles and the white walls. He hated it. His own black clothing a constant reminder on his own filth in the white pure world. The blood on his hands and the horror staining his skin.

He met the end of the labyrinth of halls, pushing the heavy doors open with his muscles straining.

"Hello, Number 015."

* * *

Grimmjow ran through the empty streets, Ichigo was just a shadow slipping behind corners and down streets. He caught a flash of orange here, a splotch of fabric disappearing behind brick a moment later. He couldn't lose Ichigo, he would never see the orangette again. His heart would be crushed, he had never felt this way before. He only wanted to stand by Ichigo side for the rest of his life, be the reason he smiled and laughed.

So he ran, following the tiny signs that Ichigo was slipping through his fingers. Panting heavily, Grimmjow turned a corner. His eyes desperately searching for a single sign of where Ichigo had gone. His eyes widened as he finally saw the beautiful creature before him, swathed in the black of shadows and the demonic bone jagged with blood. Hands were pushing against tall white doors, pushing them open to the world. Ichigo stepped inside, the white doors slowly falling closed behind him. The building devouring him in it's maw.

Grimmjow sprinted foreword. Slipping past the white barrier separating him and his love. The hall only led one way, no breaks in the white walls or doorways to fall into. Grimmjow walked through the leading halls that he knew were leading to Ichigo and Aizen. He snarled under his breath, he would kill Aizen. Nobody could make his Ichigo feel so pained and live to see the light again. Ichigo was too precious.

He stopped suddenly, his white road ending at double doors. Muffled voices came to his ears from behind the white doors.

"Did you kill them, Doll Number 015?" Aizen asked, Grimmjow could hear the smirk on his face.

"No. I beg that you spare their lives in return for my services." Ichigo replied. His voice was cold, emotionless. It gave Grimmjow the chills, reminding him of how Ichigo had been when he had first met him. Slowly, Grimmjow cracked the door open. He could see Ichigo's back, dark fabric covering every inch of his skin. Aizen sat infront of him, seated on an elegant throne of white.

"You're a doll, you can't ask for requests. You belong to me, there is no 'service'." Aizen snarled, displeasure crossing his face before he calmed it. "You always say the most interesting things, that's why you're my favorite."

Ichigo couldn't recall saying anything but what he'd been ordered to the man before this moment.

A wide grin crossed Aizen, his eyes meeting Grimmjow's in a look of glee.

"Here's your chance, 015. Kill him." Aizen raised a hand to point to Grimmjow. Ichigo turned, his expression of horror hidden by the mask he wore. Grimmjow froze, then slowly opened the door fully to let himself inside.

Ichigo was frozen, his heart freezing in his chest. Aizen was telling him to kill Grimmjow? Why was he even here? No, he knew why. Grimmjow had always chased him, always dragged him to his feet and showed everything the world had to offer. Ichigo should have knows the bluenette wouldn't have given up so easily. Ichigo honestly couldn't understand why Grimmjow liked him so much, but he was so grateful he did. Ichigo had no idea what he'd do with out the male.

"Kill him." The words echoed in his head, his chest ached at the thought. What would Grimmjow look like with a hole through his chest, his life falling in a crimson waterfall. The gleaming sharp look in his eyes dulling to a glassy white. Those beautiful lips doomed to never move or talk again. No more smiles, no more sweet words, all disappeared in a single bullet.

Then there was Aizen's words that seemed to guide my hands, my actions and my head. There was no heart with him, not beside the pumping organ that pushed blood throughout his toys body. No thoughts were needed, only his words. It was so easy, so simple. And utterly heartbreaking, Ichigo could clearly recall the blood streaked across floors from a simple child. An innocent child Neliel's age. Only years old and totally new to the harsh of the world. Ichigo had stolen everything that child had held in a single second. That was how long it took for his finger to pull and the bullet to fly.

Then the doors of death had open, welcoming the boys soul into the gates of heaven. Ichigo hadn't even looked back, he hadn't even stopped to tilt his head in a prayer. No, he had ran. Ran far away from the death that followed him, far from the deadly strings Aizen had tangled around him. He remembered all of that, but it was still so easy.

To fall back into Aizen's arms, fall back into the abyss of orders and blood. He wouldn't have to feel this stifling indecision or pain that stretched from his limbs to his heart.

Ichigo couldn't move, he didn't know what to do. Kill Grimmjow and fall to the mist of blood. Don't kill him and watch Aizen torture him to death before his eyes. He looked from Aizen to Grimmjow, turning between the two's eyes. He was sure his own were pain filled, unsure of what to do. His body was trembling, quivering at the thought of both options before him.

Ichigo was frozen.

* * *

Grimmjow couldn't watch it any more. Everytime his lovers eyes came to rest on him, they were filled with unbearable pain. It hurt Grimmjow's heart just to see the acute pain his lover was facing. Ichigo should never have to feel that way, smiles suited him so much better. He could see the fear, the blinding fear raging through his body as he shook.

Grimmjow couldn't take it. He didn't care about himself anymore, he just wanted those pain filled eyes to leave Ichigo's face. He stood up straight, walking the short distance between him and Ichigo. Ichigo jumped when his hand touched his shoulder covered with the black cloth.

He pushed back the hood covering the bright neon hair. The locks sprung up from their confines, pushing to the sky in a array of mussed spikes. Grimmjow brought a gentle hand through the stubborn, yet soft orange mane. He leaned in close, bringing his lips close to Ichigo's ear. His soft lips brushed against Ichigo's ears as he whispered. Hands ran through his hair, pulling at the crimson string holding his mask into place. Grimmjow pulled, letting the bone fall to the ground as he spoke.

"I love you, Ichigo. You can kill me, don't worry." His voice was incredibly soft, just a ghost of a breath in Ichigo's ear. The stark bone mask clattered across the ground, cracking the surface of pure white. Ichigo gasped, tears flowing from his eyes.

Kill Grimmjow? He couldn't, but if he didn't Grimmjow would have so much more pain ahead of him. Hours and hours of torture until his heart finally gave out. Ichigo had seen it happen many times before, sometimes even the cause of the hurting bleeding skin and bruised flesh. Then his tears flowed harder, pouring down his face.

"Don't cry, the only times your tears should be shown is in bed, Ichigo." Grimmjow said, caressing the porcelain skin of his face. Ichigo lowered his head, clenching his eyes shut to stop the flow of tears. He wasn't Doll Number 015, not even the better Shirosaki. No, he had decided long ago that he was Ichigo. The protecter made to fit in Grimmjow's arms and be an angel for Neliel. He raised his head, cheeks wet from the torrent of tears but no more flowed free. He inhaled, raising the gun from it's hidden alcove that rested against his skin. The curves of the metal aligned to his eye as the gun tasted cool air. His resolve hardened and his arm steady. Muscles tensed from his hard stomach to over his shoulder and down to his fingers. Warm amber eyes hardened, fiery passion seizing their color.

The silence was deadening in that moment, the world set on hair pins. It was then that Kurosaki Ichigo pulled the trigger.

The boom echoed in the room, almost deafening to the ears around it. But one pair didn't hear the sound harrowing his death. His blood ran down his forehead in stream of life and his knees hit the floor. The back of his skull was blown, blood running down his back in a stream. The already lifeless eyes cooled to a glaze, the lids forever open in the night. Ichigo fell to his knees, his limbs trembling.

Demons rose from the pits of hell to consume the corpse offered for them, to suck the rest of his tainted blood from the limp limbs. Darkness seemed to churn around him, overwhelming the white walls as Ichigo's vision flickered. He felt as if the very same demons were dragging down at him, pulling him down to the fiery hell that surely waited for his soul.

Then it disappeared in a wave of warmth as arms encircled him. The warm arms of Grimmjow covering his freezing skin, enveloping him in his embrace.

"G-Grimmjow..." Ichigo choked out, his throat tightening in shock at the dead body of Aizen laying before them. Crimson had exploded across the previously spotless floor, a horror stricken painting of Aizen's life story.

"It's okay, it's okay Ichigo." Grimmjow hugged Ichigo to his chest, holding him in his arms as the world spun around them. Ichigo's hand clutched at Grimmjow's shirt, his face burying on his chest.

"Lets go home, Ichigo." Grimmjow said, pressing his lips to Ichigo's hair. "Lets go home."

Ichigo could only nod.

* * *

**Only more chapter, then it's all over. I'll miss all the reviews:'( I love all the responses I've gotten about Ichigo and Grimmjow. Thank you all for reading! Please give me some more reviews, cause my next story won't be out for awhile. I've started on two, a humor and something more serious. Not sure which will pull through, but I'm betting only one will end up finished. Please watch out for it, hopefully I'll finish soon! Review please, it gives me will power to finish up my stories and send them to you**


	13. Chapter 13

Another year had passed in a moment. They moved back to Japan, greeting a very concerned Nnoitra and a pleased Urahara. They found new or older jobs in Ichigo's case, bought a new house and began living in the newfound peace of their lives. Neliel went to school, making fast friends with the girls there who loved her bright hair. Aizen's gang and his outside business was left to rot away. Gin surprisingly didn't pick up the slack Aizen left, instead taking the last remaining Doll and leaving for England. Grimmjow didn't ask how he'd figured that out, he just accepted it. Sometimes it was better not to question Ichigo's actions. Like how it seemed their bank account was always filled no matter how much they spent.

A small warm hand pressed to Grimmjow's back.

"What're you thinking about?" Ichigo asked. Water speckled his skin, dripping down his milky skin in streams. Grimmjow snagged his wrist, pulling him to his chest.

"You, me, everything." Grimmjow smirked, slipping a hand under Ichigo's towel and smoothing across his ass. Ichigo shivered slightly, his cheeks tinting pink.

Grimmjow kissed him softly, running a hand through his hair.

"I love you." He kissed down his jaw, nibbling at his ears. Ichigo moaned slightly, Grimmjow pulling them to a siting position.

"Wanna play?" He asked, grinning at Ichigo's flaming cheeks. He was so beautiful, his cheeks red against his smooth porcelain skin. "So beautiful," he murmured against Ichigo's skin. He ran his finger tips up Ichigo sides, moving over his smooth chest to rub against his rapidly hardening nipples.

Ichigo moaned, gripping Grimmjow's shoulders in an attempt to stay standing. He glared up at Grimmjow. Volts of pleasure running through his skin as he trembled slightly under Grimmjow's hands. He could never understand why he melted under Grimmjow's hands. They were always so hot, running up and down his skin. His hands tugged the white fluffy towel from Ichigo's waist, revealing the arousal underneath.

"Excited, aren't we?" Grimmjow smiled, running a hand up the inside of Ichigo's thigh. He gently pushed open his legs, kissing his thighs as he did.

"Like you can say anything, you're harder than me." Ichigo scoffed, smiling a little. Grimmjow laughed, nuzzling his nose into Ichigo's silky smooth skin.

"True, but how couldn't I? I have the most succulent, delicious meal under me. It'd be a sin not to be hard." Grimmjow said. He leaned down, licking a trail from the base of Ichigo's cock to the tip. Ichigo gasped, grabbing onto Grimmjow's hair. He shook his head, unable to make a retort to Grimmjow's comments. Grimmjow smirked, pressing an open mouth kiss to his balls.

"Feel good?" Grimmjow asked, rubbing a finger against Ichigo's entrance.

"Y-Yeah..." Ichigo stuttered, panting. Grimmjow grinned, he gave Ichigo's cock another long lick before raising his hips up and settling a pillow under his back.

Grimmjow brought his head down, laying on his stomach for better access. Tenderly, not wanting to scare Ichigo with the new action to their sex life, he brought his tongue to Ichigo's pink entrance.

Ichigo gasped at the feeling of something hot and wet sliding against his hole. The appendage pushed past the tight ring of muscles there, sliding inside him. He couldn't contain the moan that came with the feeling, the echoing sound especially loud in the still night.

Grimmjow thrusted his tongue into Ichigo's tight hole, holding back a groan. His cock ached, pulsing against the bed sheets. He pulled out, giving the pink flower another slow lick. He opened the drawer at the side, grasping for lube.

Ichigo looked back at him, his eyes glazed. Grimmjow swallowed, his dick seeming to get even harder at the sight. Light sweat shined against Ichigo's porcelain skin, making it look exactly like glass in the dim lighting. His wet pink lips were half open, showing the tip of his tongue swiping past them. Pink cheeks stood out perfectly against his pale, milky skin. Grimmjow groaned, pulling Ichigo up for a sweltering kiss. Their tongues danced together, touching against teeth and lips. Grimmjow pulled away, settling Ichigo against the bed again and sliding between his open legs.

Pouring lube on his fingers, he encircled Ichigo hole once before pushing the few fingers in. Ichigo moaned, clenching the sheets in his hands and toes curling. Grimmjow lifted Ichigo legs to his shoulders with his free hand, kissing the open thigh and knee by his face.

"Just... Hah... Do it." Ichigo moaned out, his hands gripping Grimmjow's biceps. Grimmjow nodded, leaning forward to drive his cock inside Ichigo. He pushed inside slowly, bring his lips to Ichigo. Ichigo's knees brushed against the sheets, his ass stretching as Grimmjow pressed against his lips.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo yelped, as Grimmjow suddenly pulled back. He rocked forward again, his cock striking that tiny pleasure spot inside Ichigo. Ichigo groaned, his hands coming down to Grimmjow's forearms as he rocked back out of him. Grimmjow thrusted into Ichigo gently, but deeply. Each time meeting Ichigo's lips right as he drove his cocks head into Ichigo's prostrate. Ichigo moaned, his eyes glazed as he stared up at Grimmjow's face.

Grimmjow groaned, feeling Ichigo tighten around him, and sensing the oncoming climax. He wasn't wrong, Ichigo opened his mouth in a soundless scream as he came. Arcs of hot white spurted over his chest, making patterns on his skin. Grimmjow groaned, feeling Ichigo clench around him, his insides spasming around Grimmjow's cock.

"Ichigo!" He groaned, falling against Ichigo's chest, not caring about the cum splattered across it. He nuzzled against Ichigo's hair.

"Love you." He whispered, nibbling on an ear. Ichigo grinned, the wide true smile that made Grimmjow's heart pound. He pressed a kiss to Grimmjow's cheek, still smiling.

"I'm tired," Ichigo said, his eyes blinking awake after the short lull in their conversation. Grimmjow laughed, petting Ichigo's bright hair back.

"Go to sleep, I'll wake you before your shift tommorow." He said, kissing Ichigo's forehead and drawing the covers above him. Ichigo nodded, yawning widely. Like a child. Grimmjow smiled at the thought, chuckling lightly. He exited the bedroom, wanting to do the dishes before settling into bed with his lover.

Nniotra was standing outside the door, his ear pressed to the crack.

"Having fun listening to me making love?" Grimmjow asked, smirking at the tall lanky man. Nnoitra scoffed.

"Making love? Has he ever said he loves you?" Nnoitra asked, eyebrows raised.

Grimmjow smirked back at Nniotra.

"Ichigo's cold, emotionless, I've never seen him smile, he's creepy as fuck man." Nniotra rambled on, Grimmjow held up a hand to stop him.

"He only ever looks at me, I'm the only person he's ever been attracted too, I'm the only person in this world that had seen his wide, true and genuine smiles. He cried in front of me, and worries about me. Only me. He doesn't need to say 'I love you' to get the message across. He loves me, I don't need to ask, I don't even need to hear those three words. As long as he never stops showing me his smiles and his tears, I'll know he loves me. That's better than most lovers can say." Grimmjow said, smiling gently at the thoughts of Ichigo.

Nniotra slowly nodded, the words strangely convincing him. He nodded once more before gesturing to the kitchen.

"Cook me up some food, will ya? I haven't eaten yet." Nnoitra said. Grimmjow laughed with a nod. They walked down the hall to the kitchen, leaving the room in peace.

From within it's confines, Ichigo smiled. His lover could read right through the masks he wore.

* * *

**Thank you everybody for reading! Thank you for all of the fabulous reviews, I loved them all. Please give me just one more? Id love to hear your thoughts on how to improve and what you liked about my writing. **

**About the last chapter: I am a whole hearted believer that every fic should have at least a taste of lemon in the ending, I hope you liked it even though it wasn't as long and thought out as other smut I've written. Hope you enjoyed the last conclusive chapter. Please keep an eye out from some of my other worK. Sadly, it may be awhile before I put anything out. I take a long time to write, and half my stories are never finished. Thank you again for reading and reviewing!**

**FrostySquid**


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